


(It Was Almost) The First Time in Forever

by GinnyK



Series: Lights Will Guide You Home [1]
Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Difficult Decisions, F/M, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Old Married Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-11 10:10:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3323621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GinnyK/pseuds/GinnyK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The final chapters in the life story of Charlie Skinner, as told by his wife Nancy</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

As the antique grandfather clock chimes 11:45 I pull the plaid blanket up a little higher. The night is chilly for early June, I’m hoping it warms up tomorrow, I have gardening to do. I don’t always wait up for my husband but I’m worried about him, so here I am, listening carefully for the car in the driveway and the sound of his key in the door.

It’s been 6 weeks since what my husband refers to as “a massive shit storm” hit ACN. Will’s still in jail, Pruitt has taken the network in directions nobody could have ever imagined and I’m left watching the love of my life spiral downward at a pace which truly frightens me. 

Charlie’s always said that retirement is not an option. And for years I’ve agreed with him. If he retired he’d drive me nuts within days. Let’s face it, relaxation isn’t really part of his vocabulary. He’s always had his work to focus on, the work he loves. He has dedicated his life to the news. And now with each decision Pruitt makes, he chips away at his life’s work and I’m terrified it will kill him.

More than once over the past few weeks I’ve tried again to steer the conversation towards the all but forbidden topic of retirement. I’ve gotten absolutely nowhere. Stubborn doesn’t begin to describe Charlie. I’ve even called in reinforcements. Our daughter Katie tried to talk to her Dad to no avail. I’ve even had Leona Lansing try to broach the subject. I think Charlie all but threw a glass of Bourbon in her direction.

The glow of the car’s headlights move across the room a few minutes after midnight. Still wrapped in the blanket, I pad to the front door to greet Charlie. I wave to his driver as my husband walks past me with a weary smile. As he kicks off his shoes and tosses his bag on the bench I close and lock the front door. I turn around and he’s just standing there, head hanging, hands stuffed in his pants pockets. 

“Oh honey,” I mutter as I let the blanket fall to the floor and gather him in my arms. His head drops to my shoulder. I rub his back for a minute as he takes a few deep breaths and wraps his arms around me. He tries to talk a few times but doesn’t really get much out and I’m starting to worry. “Come into the kitchen,” I say as I gently take him by the hand and lead him out of the foyer towards the back of the house. I deposit him on a stool at the island and turn on the overhead light; he squints against the harsh brightness. He shrugs out of his jacket and I manage to grab it before it hits the floor. As his hands reach for his striped bow tie I move them out of the way and undo the tie myself. 

“You didn’t have to wait up,” he mutters. It’s the first thing he’s really said since he got home.

“I know. I wanted to,” I reply as I brush back his hair and press a kiss to his forehead. “You want some tea?”

“How about Bourbon?” he counters.

“Not a chance.”

“Then tea sounds fine,” he answers as he puts his elbows on the island and his head in his hands. I turn the flame on under the tea kettle and grab two mugs out of the cabinet. I pluck two Sleepytime teabags out of the basket and drop them in the mugs. 

“Did you eat dinner?” I ask, pretty sure I know the answer that question. Remembering to eat regularly is something Charlie has never been good about. It’s gotten worse over the past 6 weeks, that’s for sure.

“I don’t think so,” he answers, his voice muffled as he still has his head in his hands. I move behind him and put my hands on his shoulders. He sits up and leans back against me. His hands grab mine as I settle my chin on his shoulder. 

“Are you hungry?” I ask, knowing full well what the answer will be.

“I can’t eat,” he whispers.

“It’s okay,” I whisper back. “Why don’t you go change, I’ll bring the tea into the den. Deal?”

“Deal,” he replies as he slides off the stool, grabbing his jacket and tie as he heads for the stairs. “Thanks for waiting up. I love you,” he calls over his shoulder.

“Love you too.”

********

Ten minutes later I’m sitting on the couch in the den under the blanket with my tea as I hear Charlie pad down the stairs and head towards me. I lift up the corner of the blanket in a wordless invitation to him. In his favorite pajamas he curls up next to me and takes the tea I hold out to him. 

“How was work?” I ask, not really expecting much of an answer.

“Shit storm, as usual,” he mutters with a sigh. “Happy it’s the weekend,” adds.

“Me too. Rest assured you are doing nothing this weekend but catching up on your sleep and eating something that resembles real food. And spending time with your adoring family,” I tease as I put my arm around him and settle him against my shoulder. 

“Sounds good,” he immediately answers. And that answer scares me to death. He never just agrees to that plan, even though it’s the same one I make every weekend.

Twenty minutes later our tea is gone. Charlie still hasn’t said more than a few words but at nearly one in the morning I’m not about to press him to talk. I can feel myself drifting off and part of me wants to just stay here but let’s be honest, we’re both too old to sleep curled up on the couch. 

“Come upstairs honey, we’ll never be able to walk tomorrow if we sleep down here,” I whisper as I nudge Charlie a little. He nods in agreement and heads upstairs as I put the mugs in the sink and turn out the lights. 

By the time I get upstairs and brush my teeth he is sound asleep, snoring softly.

********

A clap of thunder and the sound of rain wake me from a sound sleep. So much for gardening I think as I reach behind me, thinking the noise probably woke Charlie too. My hand comes up with nothing but a handful of blankets. I sit up and glance towards the bathroom. The light is off. Knowing I will never get back to sleep without checking on him I push back the covers.

He’s not in his office next to our bedroom. As I head towards the stairs the house shakes with a loud clap of thunder the hall is illuminated with a flash of lightning. I find Charlie in the recliner in the den, a glass of what I can only assume is Bourbon on the table next to him. He’s stirring a little from the sound of the storm but he’s not aware of my presence. I stand quietly for a minute to see if he wakes up. When he doesn’t I just toss a blanket over him, kiss his forehead and take the glass to the kitchen. I weigh the odds that I will fall back to sleep if I return to our bedroom and decide to just curl up on the couch, hoping my body doesn’t protest the decision in the morning.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

I wake again and it’s daylight.  I can hear the rain falling but it’s nothing like the storm I woke to hours earlier.   The recliner is empty.  I hear the sounds of Charlie puttering around in the kitchen.  The smells of coffee and bacon are in the air as I rub my eyes and push myself to my feet.

The scene in the kitchen is what I live for, my husband of nearly 50 years, completely relaxed.  He’s standing at the counter, reading glasses perched on his nose as he reads the directions on the box of pancake mix.  On the counter next to the stove is his coffee in a News Night with Will McAvoy mug and a half eaten banana.  There’s music playing softly, I recognize it as a CD Beau and his band made last winter.  A few minutes pass by before he realizes he’s being watched. 

“Morning sweetheart,” he calls over his shoulder as he reaches in the cabinet for the measuring cup.  “Can you flip those,” he asks as he motions towards the bacon with his elbow.

“Certainly,” I reply as I cross the room.  I give him a quick kiss as I reach around him to grab the tongs. 

Fifteen minutes later we’re sitting at the kitchen table with enough food for at least four people.  But I’m not complaining, I’m just happy to see Charlie eat something.  We talk about fairly benign subjects, the previous night’s storm, the grandchildren, the renovations we want to do to our back deck.  The most serious subject we talk about is the big party we’re going to throw when Will comes home. 

I send him out of the kitchen when we’re done eating.  He cooked, it’s only fair that I clean up.  He doesn’t get very far, he ends up at the island with the newspaper and a third cup of coffee.

“Did you sleep?” I ask as I turn the water on to wash the griddle.

“Some, woke up before the storm.”

“Well, you have plenty of time to nap this afternoon,” I state simply, waiting for a protest.  When one doesn’t come I turn around.  Reading glasses perched on his nose, chin resting on one hand my husband looks adorable. I just laugh a little to myself and turn back to my cleaning. 

When the kitchen is clean I go up to get dressed to head out to the garden.  The rain has stopped and I figure I’ll head out there while I can.  Charlie declines my offer to let him help me, deciding instead to take a quick shower.

******

“Sure you don’t want to help?” I ask as I point to the flat of plants which need to be planted in the large terra cotta pots on the deck.

“Nope, I’m good,” is the reply I get as Charlie stretches out on the lounge chair with his iPad and a glass of iced tea. 

I work while he pretends he’s reading.  I know he’s really playing games, the muttering of the four letter words give it away.

His cell phone rings and I can tell by the tone of his voice and his posture who is on the other end.  I sigh and mutter a few choice words of my own.  While he paces around the deck and talks to Pruitt I finish up the final pot and clean up my mess.   With one eye on the plants I’m watering and one eye on Charlie I try to figure out how to bring up the retirement conversation yet again.  It’s way too clear by his body language that Charlie is getting more pissed off by the moment.  He kicking at the furniture and running his free hand through his hair as he talks. 

“Hang up,” I mutter as I brush my hair out of my eyes, trying not to get dirt in my hair.

“We will talk about it on Monday,” Charlie yells as he ends the call. He tosses the phone on the table and lets out a frustrated breath.  I peel off my gardening gloves so I don’t get him dirty as I wrap him into a big hug. 

“Princeton story?” I guess as that’s been the fight of the week with Pruitt.

“Yep,” Charlie mutters.  “The whole thing is just crap.  We shouldn’t be doing it.  I know that in my heart, everyone knows it, except for that little asshole,” he mutters.  “I have to convince Don to do it.  All while trying not to throw up,” he snorts.

“You’ll think of a way to do it,” I said, my words sounding utterly ridiculous to both of us.

“Yeah, I will and it just may kill me to do so,” he replies.

“Charles Edward Skinner, do not even joke like that,” I say in a tone which is harsher than I had intended.  He pulls out of my embrace and I’m immediately sorry.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters as he runs a hand wearily over his eyes.  “I’m going to walk up to the mailbox,” he says as he puts his phone back in the pocket of his shorts.  I let him go, figuring the walk up the long driveway will do him some good. 

I put the gardening supplies back in the shed and admire the newly planted flowers.  I can see Charlie at the end of the driveway.  He’s talking to our next door neighbor and petting their black lab.  I wave to him and head in to take a shower. It’s almost noon and Katie and Ned are coming over for lunch in less than an hour.

*****

True to my plan, we spend a relaxing afternoon with our family.  Katie and Ned arrived a little before one and Beau even made a brief appearance before disappearing with his friends.

After eating, Charlie and Ned tossed a football in the backyard for a while and Ned wore Katie down in his request to jump in the pool.  The pool is heated but water’s still too cold for anyone over the age of 7 but he has a great time. Charlie sat at the end of the pool with his feet in the water, throwing a plastic fish in the water for Ned to dive down and retrieve. 

Katie and I sat on the deck with iced tea and a few decorating magazines, trying to decide what exactly we should do with our deck.  Thankfully Charlie’s phone only rings a few times and none of those calls were from Pruitt.  Makenzie called with some lame excuse, when in truth she was just checking up on Charlie.  I’m sure she’s just as worried about my husband as I am.  Don does that same although his excuse for calling was probably a little more believable than Mac’s.

Katie doesn’t have any words of wisdom when I ask for some advice on how to get her father to reconsider his view on retirement.  I decide to give it one more try later tonight.  Maybe I’ll soften him up with pizza and beer.

Katie and I clean up from the hamburger lunch Charlie grilled for us.  She gives Ned a 10 minute warning to get himself out of the pool.  He’s spending the night with his Dad and he needs to get home and get ready.  I’m grateful for the fact that Katie and the boys live less than two miles away.  Ned can’t wait until he’s old enough to ride his bike over by himself. 

I watch from the porch when Charlie carries Ned out to the car as our little guy is not wearing shoes and we have a gravel driveway.  He kisses his grandson and daughter with a promise to get together next weekend.

Charlie waves once more and heads towards me.  “That little man is exhausting,” he chuckles as he drops onto the porch swing.  His silver hair flops over his forehead, giving him that adorable look I fell in love with half a century ago.

“He most certainly is.  Why don’t you rest for a little while?  You want some iced tea?” I ask as he starts the swing with his foot.

“Sounds good,” he replies as he closes his eyes.

Ten minutes later, after a glass of iced tea and a few cookies he pushes himself off the swing and settles down on the lounge chair.  Approximately five minutes after that, he’s sound asleep. 

While he naps I start a load of laundry and empty the dishwasher.  I look at the calendar to see what the week ahead holds for us.  I have an appointment to get my haircut and Charlie has an appointment with his doctor. 

The appointment was my idea, not his.  It’s been well over a year since he’s had a physical and let’s face it, he’s in his early 70’s, he’s under too much stress, he drinks too much, sleeps too little and eats like he’s in college.  In my non-medical professional opinion, he’s on the fast track to a bad outcome.

As I start to fold the laundry I hear his phone ringing.  From the sound of it, he left it in the kitchen.  I glance at the readout, it’s Pruitt.  I press decline and turn off the ringer.  Whatever he wants, it can wait.  I glance at the phone a minute later, happy that he didn’t bother to leave a message.

Two hours pass by and Charlie’s still sound asleep.  I’ve checked on him a few times and he’s actually sleeping peacefully for a change.

It’s a little before 6 and I’ve decided I’m getting hungry so I head back out to the porch to see about waking my husband.  He’s stirring a little as I perch on the edge of the lounge chair.  He’s turned on his side facing me so I rub his back a little.  “You okay?” I ask, he looks much more tired than he should, considering he just took a two and a half hour nap.

“Don’t feel so great,” he mutters. I frown as I press my hand to his forehead, he feels warm.  I remember that Ned had a little virus earlier in the week, maybe he decided to share his germs with grandfather.

“You’re warm.  I think your favorite little man shared his germs.  Come inside.”  I pull him to his feet and he shuffles into the kitchen and sits at the island.  I don’t bother with the thermometer, I just hand him two Advil and a bottle of water. 

“What’s going on?” I ask as I rub his back a little. 

“Headache, everything just hurts, I guess,” he sighs as he puts his head down on his folded arms. 

“Guess I’ll take a rain check on the pizza.”

“What pizza?” he mumbles without lifting his head.

“The pizza we were going to get for dinner.”

“Ah, sorry about that,” he mutters.

“Nothing to be sorry about.  Spending the night here alone with you isn’t exactly my idea of a horrible evening,” I tease.  “Do you mind if I eat something?”

“Of course not, I’m going to go read or something,” he says as he motions in the general direction of the den. 

“No Bourbon,” I call.  He turns around, comes back in the kitchen and grabs the bottle of water from the island.  I hear him grumbling a little as he heads down the hall.  I just laugh.

He probably won’t be reading, seeing as his reading glasses are sitting by the newspaper on the island.

A quick search of the refrigerator yields nothing that catches my eye.  So I settle for the old standby, peanut butter and jelly.  I talk to Mackenzie while I eat.  She’s hanging in there, I don’t know how, but she is.  We make plans to have lunch next week.

I wander into the den to find Charlie watching a baseball game.  He’s stretched out on the couch in the fading daylight. 

“Good game?” I ask, not that I really care all that much.  The only ball games I really pay attention to are Ned’s.

“Not really,” he answers as he starts to sit up to give me room to sit on the couch.  I curl up in the corner and motion to him to settle back down with his head in my lap. 

“Was that my phone I heard a while ago?” he asks.  I just nod.  “The Devil?” he asks with a smirk.

“Yep.  I turned the ringer off.  Anyone we really want to talk to will call my phone or the house.”

“That’s my girl,” Charlie says with a wink.  He turns his attention back to the television but I can tell he wants to say something. What, I have no idea.  I don’t push him.  If there’s one thing I’ve learned about him over the years it’s that if he’s not ready to talk, he won’t.  And he certainly won’t respond well if I press him to share what he’s thinking.  Eventually he mutes the game and rolls over a little to really look at me.

“What the fuck am I doing?” he asks as he sighs.

I don’t respond verbally, I just raise my eyebrows and he gets the hint.  The environment he works in has made colorful language perfectly acceptable.  However, that acceptability does not extend to our home.

“What am I doing?” he tries again, leaving out his favorite word.

“Charlie, honey, you need to be a bit more specific,” I point out because I’m not exactly sure where he’s going with this conversation.

“I’m too old to have made this deal with the Devil,” he mutters.

“You did what you had to do at the time.  You didn’t exactly have a choice.  You tried to find another buyer and you got screwed over,” I point out, using my version of colorful language.

“Yeah.”

“But you don’t have to continue the deal,” I say plainly, just letting my words hang in the air.

“I know.  I thought I could do it.  But it’s been 6 weeks and I feel like it’s killing me.  My staff looks at me as if I’ve grown a second head.  And believe me, I can’t believe some of the shit that comes out of my mouth on a daily basis,” he spits out.  I let the language pass by as I’m just happy he’s starting to talk.

“Honey, you are in a horrible position.  And let’s be honest, I don’t see it getting better any time soon.  I know you haven’t wanted to consider it before but maybe it’s time to really think about retiring.”

I just sit back and wait for the vigorous protests which I’ve come to expect whenever I even bring up the subject.

Thirty seconds later and I’m still waiting for a reaction of any kind.

“Charles?” I whisper.  The use of his full name brings him back from wherever he went.

“Maybe it is,” he whispers back.

For years I’ve been waiting for him to agree to even consider retirement.  And now that he has, I’m scared to death. It’s almost like he’s giving up before my eyes.  In the last bit of fading daylight he suddenly seems older to me, more worn out and just plain sad.  I lean over and wrap my arm across his chest and kiss him softly.  

“Now what?” he asks as he rubs at his eyes.

“We talk to some people.  Katie, Will and Mac, Leona.  We pray, we take some time to think about it.”

He just nods as he swings his legs over the side of the couch and sits up.  Elbows on his knees and head in his hands, he breaks my heart.  I just scoot over a little and rub his back.  Comforting words don’t flow easily so we sit in silence.

That silence is broken a minute later when I hear a choking sob coming from my husband.

“Oh sweetie, come here,” I whisper as I move back to the corner of the couch and pull him towards me.  He curls up against me, head tucked under my chin.  He cries like he hasn’t cried since his mother died 20 years ago.   I try to console him the best I can but of course his tears have caused mine to start too and soon we are just a soggy mess.  I manage to pull myself together quicker than he does and I reach for the box of tissues on the end table.  I shove a handful towards him and he takes them with a weak, watery smile.  He untangles himself from my embrace and attempts to wipe his face a little.  Tissues aren’t exactly working all that well so I leave him on the couch and grab a washcloth from the laundry basket on the steps. 

“Do you need more water?” I yell as I walk into the kitchen to wet the cloth.

“Yeah,” he yells back.

He’s still on the couch when I get back, head tipped back he’s staring at the ceiling.  The glow from the light in the hallway is enough for me to see what I’m going.  I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate the harsh overhead light being turned on.   I gently wipe his face and put the cool, damp cloth on his forehead.  He drinks a little water and his breathing slowly returns to normal.

“Sorry,” he apologizes unnecessarily.

“For what, Charlie?  Being human?” I tease as I tip his chin to get him to look at me.  He smiles a little and kisses my cheek.

“God, I feel like crap,” he admits with a sigh.

“Why don’t you go up and soak in the tub for a while.  I’ll bring up some tea,” I offer as I pull him to his feet.  I pull the cloth off his forehead and kiss his cheek, realizing I should probably find the thermometer.

He plods up the stairs looking every bit his age.  “Grab my glasses,” he yells over his shoulder.

“Okay.”

*****

I listen for the sound of the water running in the tub because at this point I wouldn’t be surprised if he just face planted on the bed instead of relaxing in the tub.  I hear the groaning of the old pipes as I turn on the burner under the tea kettle. 

I prop his reading glasses on my own head so I can carry both mugs up the stairs.  As I head towards our bathroom I can hear him singing in his endearing, slightly off key voice. 

“Careful, it’s hot,” I warn as I hand him the mug of Sleepytime tea.  He takes it with a grateful smile.  I set my own tea on the counter and hunt through the medicine cabinet for the ear thermometer.  I find it behind the sleeping pills he hates to take and the bottle of antacid tablets which he reaches for way too often.  “Turn your head,” I tell him as I sit on the edge of the tub.  “100.8,” I announce after the thermometer beeps.

“That would explain the whole feeling like crap thing,” he mutters under his breath.  I hand him his glasses and book with a kiss to the top of his head. 

“I’ll be right back up,” I tell him as I head back downstairs to bring up the laundry basket. 

As I put away the laundry we chat bit about nothing in particular, certainly not any life changing decisions.  When I realize I haven’t heard much from Charlie in the last few minutes,  I wander back into the bathroom to find him half asleep, glasses slipping down on the end of his nose, his book about an inch away from falling into the water.  I pull the book from his grasp and he startles awake.

“Let’s get you out before you drown,” I tease as I take off his glasses.

“What time is it?” he mutters as he takes the hand I offer him. 

“Almost 9.  Here,” I say as I hand him a towel.  When I’m sure he’s steady on his feet I go to grab him something to sleep in.  He wanders into the bedroom with the towel wrapped around his waist. His hair  is sticking out in all directions and he looks adorable.  I hand him a pair of plaid boxers and an ancient ACN t-shirt. As he slips them on I take the pile of clean towels to the bathroom to put them away.

Charlie pads back in the bathroom to hang up his towel.  He stops to look in the mirror as he rakes his hand through his hair in an effort to tame it a little.  It doesn’t really work.  He slides to sit on the counter, swinging his bare feet in front of him.  I reach behind him to get some more Advil.  I hand him two with the rest of his now cold tea.  As I put the Advil back the bottle of Ambien catches my eye and I grab it. I shake it a little to get his attention.

“Fine,” he sighs, the resignation coming through in his voice.  He takes the pill without any further comment.

I stand in front on him, putting my hands on his knees so he stops kicking his feet.  “What do you want to do?” I ask.  He raises his eyebrows and smirks.  I just shake my head.

He reaches to pull me close, resting his chin on my shoulder.  “I love you,” he whispers.

“Love you too,” I whisper back. 

A few minutes pass by before Charlie relaxes his grip on me and sits back up.  Motioning for me to step back, he slides off the counter to brush his teeth.

“Take the rest of your pills,” I remind him as I close the door behind me.  I hear him mutter a few choice words as he opens the medicine cabinet to grab his blood pressure and cholesterol meds.  I think to myself how unhappy he’s going to be when I suggest he talk to his doctor about taking something for the anxiety.  He’s had trouble with it over the years but up until 6 weeks ago, things had been pretty good for a long time.  And now things are far from fine and I want to get a head start on things, so to speak.  He’ll fight me about it, he has another idea of what to take for anxiety.

That idea would be a good bottle of Bourbon, the elephant in the room of our otherwise fairytale marriage.

But at 9 o’clock at night and with Charlie running a fever of almost 101, I’m going to keep my thoughts to myself.

“Nancy…Nancy,” I turn to find Charlie leaning in the doorway to the bathroom, apparently trying to get my attention.  “You okay, seemed to space out a little,” he smirks.  That’s usually something I say to him.

“I’m fine,” I assure him with a smile.

He crossed the room and curls up in the overstuffed chair in the corner.  I turn off the overhead light and he reaches to turn on the floor lamp over his left shoulder.  He puts on his reading glasses and opens up his book.  I toss the grey throw from the end of our bed over his legs and kiss the top of his head.  “Yell, if you need anything.  I’m going to work downstairs for a little while.”

“Okay,” he mutters a little, his attention already turned towards his book.

I head back down the stairs and turn the water back on under the tea kettle to make myself another cup.   As the water boils I head into my “woman cave” the large laundry/sewing room off the kitchen.  I turn on the overhead light and light the vanilla mint candle on the shelf.  My latest project is a quilt for Ned.  I took him to the fabric store a few weeks ago and let him pick out what he wanted.  As a result I have a pile of bright colored fabrics with various super heroes printed on them.  I iron the pieces and spend the next hour or so starting to cut the fabric.  I don’t see or hear a thing from Charlie and I imagine he is sound asleep, probably still curled up in the chair. 

A little before 11 and I’ve cut out about half the fabric, that’s enough for tonight.  I stick my mug in the dishwasher and pull a couple of steaks out of the freezer for dinner tomorrow night.  I’m surprisingly still awake so I check my email and do a little mindless web surfing until almost midnight. 

True to my prediction, Charlie is sound asleep in the chair.  His book is on the floor and his glasses are in his lap.  I set the book and glasses on the side table before perching on the arm of the chair to gently wake him up and get him to bed.  I run my fingers through his thick hair and press a kiss to his forehead. 

“Come to bed, sweetie,” I whisper as he starts to stir.  I pull the throw off his lap so he doesn’t end up tangled up and quite possibly on the floor.  He’s back to sleep within a minute and a half.  By the time I’ve brushed my own teeth and taken my own pills, it is a few minutes after midnight.

I sit on the edge of the bed for a minute and say a quick prayer before crawling under the covers.  In his sleep Charlie reaches out and pulls me close and for a minute everything feels right.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

I wake to the sun streaming in the window.  Apparently God answered the part of my prayer in which I asked for a quiet night.  Rolling over I see Charlie is still sound asleep.  It’s a little after 7, the time my internal clock usually wakes me.  His internal clock is set for a little after 9 but seeing that it’s Sunday I will wake him in a little while to see if he’s up to going to church.  I press my hand to his forehead, he still feels a bit warm but he’s also under the covers.

Twenty minutes later I step out of the shower to the smell of fresh coffee.  I’m assuming my husband is awake as I know I didn’t set the timer on the coffeemaker before I went to bed.

I find him in the kitchen, sitting at the island with a bowl of oatmeal, cup of coffee and the newspaper.  The television under the cabinet is tuned to ACN, Poppy’s channel as Ned calls it.

“Good morning,” he calls over his shoulder as I come into the room. 

“Morning, how do you feel?” I ask as I press a quick kiss to the back of his head on my way to the coffee.

“A little better, I think.  I’m up to going to church but probably not much more than that,” he admits.

“That works just fine, because we don’t have any plans,” I remind him. 

An hour later we pull out of the driveway on our way to church.  In the passenger’s seat is my pouting husband.  He’s pouting because I’m in the driver’s seat.  In all honesty, Charlie doesn’t drive very often.  A driver picks him up in the late morning and deposits him back at the end of his long days.  On the weekends we tend to relax and not go out too much.  When we go out with Katie and the boys, we take her SUV.  Add in his love of bourbon and the fact that he does not drink and drive, his opportunities to get behind the wheel are rather limited.

Katie and the boys are waiting for us when we get there.  Beau has that look like he’d rather be anywhere else than at church with his family, but he will survive.  Ned is excited to see his beloved Poppy.  I’m guessing he picked out his own outfit this morning.  He’s wearing khaki cargo shorts, a white oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up, black Chuck Taylors and a striped bow tie.  He flies into Charlie’s arms, proudly pointing out his tie. We file into the pew, Ned ends up between us.  He’s on his knees so he can see what’s going on. 

The service is good, sermon on change seems to be tailor made for us.  By the look on Charlie’s face, he feels the same way.

We mingle and talk to a few people after the benediction, much to Beau’s dismay.  He clearly has other plans for this gorgeous late Spring day.  Ned on the other hand, clearly has no intention of letting go of his grandfather so we invite him to come home with us.  He is delighted to say the least. 

Charlie gets him settled in his booster seat we keep in my car while I go over some logistics with Katie.  As I slip into the driver’s seat I hear Charlie and Ned making grand plans for the today.  Judging by Ned’s ideas, I don’t think there are enough hours in the day.

“Poppy can we swim?” Ned asks as I pull in the driveway. 

“Swim? Buddy it’s too cold,” Charlie answers as I put the car in park.  He climbs out and opens Ned’s door for him.

“Remember, Nana put the heater on yesterday,” Ned reminds me.  “It should be plenty warm,” he adds as he takes Charlie’s hand and leads him to the front porch.

“Thanks for that, honey,” Charlie smirks in my direction.

While the boys go change into bathing suits and t-shirts, I find something for lunch. I grab a package of hot dogs out of the fridge and head out to turn the grill on.  As it heats up I run and change.  Shorts for me, I don’t swim until July.

Ned and Charlie help me get lunch on the table.  Ned tells us about the party his class is having in a few  weeks for the end of the school year.  He is finishing Kindergarten and can’t wait to start first grade or what he refers to as “big school”.

Charlie manages to use the “30 minute rule” to stall the inevitable, getting into the pool, which despite the heater is still pretty chilly. 

“Time’s up,” Ned announces as he checks the watch we gave him for Christmas.  Charlie’s probably wishing her never taught Ned how to tell time.

Charlie pushes himself out of the deck chair with a heavy sigh, probably for my benefit.  He jumps right in, knowing that’s the only way he actually going to get in.

I watch for a little while as Charlie and Ned have a ball in the pool.  I can’t help but think how thrilled Ned will be when his Poppy has a lot more time to spend with him.

“Can you turn on the hot tub?” Charlie calls as he climbs out of the pool. 

I turn it on and walk down the steps of the deck to the hot tub where the boys are warming up. Charlie holds out his hand to me and I step up and sit on the edge of the hot tub.  It’s nice and warm, unlike the pool which even Ned agrees was “a little cold”.

By 2:30 Ned’s little fingers resemble prunes so we convince him to get out and get dried off.  I grab some towels from the laundry room for both of them.  Charlie and Ned wrap themselves up and sit together on a lounge chair, playing games on Charlie’s iPad.

Eventually it is clear Ned’s doing the game playing and the only thing Charlie is doing it trying to stay awake.  I go back inside to put on a pot of coffee as Charlie’s going to need it soon.  He spends a few hours every Sunday locked away in his office upstairs getting ready for the week ahead.  Ned knows the drill and when he’s with us on Sunday he’ll go up with Charlie and hang out on the couch with a movie or a book while Charlie works. 

“Time to get to work, buddy” Charlie announces to Ned as I poke my head outside and tell him that the coffee is ready.

Ned comes in the house and into the downstairs bathroom where he left his clothes earlier when he put on his bathing suit.

Charlie takes the cup of coffee I hold out to him, he kisses my cheek and heads up to change and get to work. 

Ned appears a minute later, hair out of control, holding his damp suit in his hand.  “Go hang that over the railing outside,” I tell him as I pour myself a cup of coffee.  He comes back in a minute later and we check out the progress I’ve made on his quilt.  He’s excited to see what I’ve done and asks a ton of questions. 

“I should probably check on Poppy,” Ned announces, his little voice completely serious.  “Can I take up a drink?” he asks as he climbs off the chair.

“Sure, sweetie.  Go find what you want in the fridge, I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Nana, do you have clear soda?” Ned calls.

Clear soda?  A smile comes across my face when I remember the reasoning behind his question.  It involves a glass of red Kool-Aid and the rug in Charlie’s office. 

“There’s Sprite on the door, honey,” I call back as I turn off the light in the sewing room.

Ned heads upstairs with a can of Sprite, a book and the Frozen DVD.  “Come check on us in a while, Nana,” he calls over his shoulder.  I laugh and assure him I will, I always do.

Half an hour later, as promised, I go up to check on my “boys”.

Charlie is sitting with his bare feet on his desk and a yellow legal pad in his lap, his laptop is within reach as is his coffee mug.  He changed into a pair of faded jeans and a plaid shirt he didn’t bother to tuck in.  My husband’s looking pretty good.  If Ned weren’t here I might have stolen Charlie away from his work for a little while.

“Can you put the movie on?” Ned asks from the couch.  Apparently he was reading his book and waiting for me to watch the movie with him.  We snuggle together on the couch to watch.  We’ve probably seen the movie half a dozen times but it’s his favorite and I’m pretty fond of it too.

As Elsa and Anna get ready to open up the gates and the song “For the First Time in Forever” starts, I really listen to the lyrics.  It’s about the girls expanding their horizons, being around more people, starting to experience more of life.  The exact opposite of what I want right now.  I want my world to shrink a little. I want it to just be me and Charlie for a while, for the first time in forever.

******

Katie picks Ned up after dinner, which he “helped” Charlie cook.  Few people realize that my husband is actually a great cook.  He doesn’t get a whole lot of time to do it but he does enjoy it.  Ned certainly enjoys helping him. 

After I walk Katie and Ned out to the car I head for the deck to water my newly planted flowers.  Charlie comes out with a glass of bourbon and his other bad habit, a cigar.  I say nothing.  He hasn’t had a drink since Friday night.  As for the cigar, unless he’s smoking them at work, it’s his Sunday evening tradition to have one after dinner.

He sits at the table enjoying his drink and I think the view of me leaning over to pick up Ned’s bathing suit which blew off the railing.  He winks and as I pass him by he reaches out to grab my hand, pulling me into his lap.

Apparently we’re both having the same idea this evening.


	4. Chapter 4

Monday morning dawns and I know I’ve slept well.  I climb out of bed at 7, leaving Charlie to sleep a while longer, I’m sure he could use all the sleep he can get in preparation for what I’m sure will be another fun filled week with the “devil”.

Charlie pads down the stairs a little after 8.  He’s showered, shaved and halfway dressed.  He’s got on a plaid shirt, bowtie hanging around his neck, blue socks and boxers.  He’s carrying a blue jacket and his shoes in one hand.

“Not that I’m complaining about your lack of pants Charlie, but I think you should probably put some on for the office,” I tease as I pour him a cup of coffee.

“Yeah, were you able to get the coffee stain out of my favorite khaki pants?” he asks as he drapes his jacket over a kitchen chair and drops his shoes on the floor.  Apparently my teasing fell flat.

“They are on the dryer.  What do you want for breakfast?” I ask him as I turn on the television and change the channel to ACN.

“Charlie, breakfast?” I call a minute later when I don’t get an answer.

He comes out of the laundry room a minute later, pants on, shirt tucked in, tie still undone.

“Honey, sit down.”  I take him by the hand and move him in the general direction of the nearest stool.  I get a good look at him and I’m not real happy with what I see.  He’s pale and despite over 8 hours sleep he still looks worn out.  “You feel okay?” I ask as I brush the back of my hand over his cheek.  He’s cool.

“I don’t know.  Still feel a little off,” he admits as he picks up the coffee mug.  He’s about to take a big sip when he turns slightly green and puts it back down and pushes it away.

“You want to try tea instead?”

“I’ll take some tea. And before you ask, I don’t think I can eat anything.”

“Okay, why don’t you think about working from here today?”

“I can’t.  I have to go in and face the Devil.”

I don’t say anything, I know whatever I say is not going to change his mind.  I’ll do what I usually do in situations like this, I text Mac and Sloan and ask them to keep an eye on him.  It’s almost as good as being there and he’s less likely to give them a hard time about hovering over him.

I make him some tea and toss a banana and some crackers in his briefcase in case he changes his mind about eating on the ride into the city.

At three minutes after 10, Chris his driver knocks on the door.  He enjoys a cup of my coffee while Charlie runs upstairs to brush his teeth.  When he comes back down I straighten his tie, kiss his cheek and send the two of them on their merry way.

Over a second cup of coffee I text Mac and Sloan.  Both agree to keep an eye on him for me.  Mac will visit Will later as she does every Monday.  We’ll have a late lunch together on Thursday and commiserate as we’ve done for the past 6 weeks.

I putter around the yard for a bit, talk to Katie on the phone and work on Ned’s quilt.

As I’m eating lunch I hear my text alert go off.  Takes me a minute to find my phone under a pile of fabric in the sewing room.   It’s from Mac.

 

_\--you weren’t kidding about him looking like crap. Tried to get him to eat something, no luck_

Five minutes pass and it is Sloan’s turn to give me an update.

 

_\--ugh, he just bolted from the conference room with his hand over his mouth._

I wait 20 minutes and I’m just about to call his cell phone when Mac texts again.

 

_-Chris is picking him up, will be home in about an hour. Call me later and let me know how he is.  Going to visit Will later, see you for lunch on Thursday._

I open the pantry to check our supply of ginger ale and crackers.  We’re okay on both.

At a few minutes before 3 the front door opens.  Chris walks in carrying Charlie’s briefcase.  He drops it on the bench in the foyer as Charlie drags himself in the front door. I grab him by the arm, and steer him towards the bench, not sure how long he’s going to remain upright.  I decline Chris’ offer to help me get him settled. 

“Den or bedroom?” I ask as I help him out of his jacket and pull his bowtie free. He toes off his shoes and kicks them under the bench.

“Bathroom,” he mutters and takes off for the powder room down the hall.

A good fifteen minutes later and he’s still in there.  I sneak in behind him with a can of ginger ale and a washcloth.  I put the cool cloth on the back of his neck and rub his back as he dry heaves.   Eventually he sits back on his heels and take a deep breath. 

“Here,” I say as I hand him the ginger ale.  I reach around him and flush as he takes a small sip.  “Ready to get up?”

“I think so,” he sighs as he lets me help him up.  I put the lid down and he sits for a minute.  I find a new toothbrush in the cabinet and hand it to him.  I pull him to his feet and hang in the doorway as he brushes his teeth.

“Den,” he mutters as he shuffles past me.

I get him settled on the couch in the den with the ginger ale and a plastic bowl.  He’s asleep within minutes.  I call Mac and let her know he made it home and that if I have anything to say about it, he will not be going to the office tomorrow.  She’s on her way to see Will and I tell her to give him our best.  I know Charlie had planned on going with her to see Will and he’s going to be upset.

Charlie’s still asleep an hour later.  I’ve checked on him a few times but he hasn’t moved.   I sew for a while, think about what I’m going to say to my husband and eventually sit in the recliner to read.

A chapter into my book I hear Charlie starting to stir a bit.  I get up and perch on the edge of the couch, rubbing his back a little.

“What time is it?” he whispers as he looks around, clearly trying to get his bearings.

“Almost 5.  How do you feel?” I ask as I brush back his hair.  I press a kiss to his forehead to check his temperature.  He’s thankfully cool.

“I don’t know,” he mutters as he props himself up a little in the corner of the couch. 

“I have a theory,” I start carefully.  “I don’t think what’s going on now has anything to do with the little virus you probably had over the weekend.  I mean you were fine by yesterday afternoon, you had enough energy for other things last night,” I tease lightly.  He smiles and lets out a little laugh as he leans forward to kiss me.

“Sorry, continue with your theory, Dr. Skinner,” he asks with another smile.

“I think a lot of it has to do with anxiety and stress.” He starts to put up his hand in protest but I just shake my head.  “No, listen to me.  When you see Dr. Matthews on Thursday I want you to be honest with him about what you’ve been going through.  I think you need more help than what I can give you.”

“Like what?”  he asks, knowing full well what my answer is going to be.  I hold off on answering, waiting for him to say it.  “Medication?” 

“Possibly,” I answer quietly as I lean forward a bit, resting my forehead against his.  He takes a deep breath and reaches for my hands.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he sighs.

“No it wouldn’t.”  He’s taken something for anxiety a few times over the years.  It’s always worked for him.

“Maybe you’re right,” he sighs.  I expected more of a fight but surprisingly the fact that he’s not really fighting me on the issue doesn’t freak me out as much as I thought it would. “Damn,” he mutters a minute later.

“What?”

“I was supposed to go with Mac to visit Will today,” he says sadly

“I know.  She’ll give him your best and you can go see him next Monday.”

He nods a little, it’s not like he can do anything about it now.

“It’s beautiful out, how about you change and go sit outside for a little while.  Try and clear your head a bit.”

“Okay,” he agrees.  He holds out his hand to me and I pull him to his feet. 

He heads upstairs to change, coming back down a few minutes later in a pair of cargo shorts and an ancient long sleeve Marine Corp t-shirt.

 “Give me your phone.”  He hands it over without a word and takes the can of ginger ale I’m holding out to him.  With a swat to the rear I send him outside to get some fresh air.

So far, so good.  But I’ve yet to broach the subject of working from home tomorrow.  Who knows, maybe he’ll surprise me.

I water the plants on the front porch, giving Charlie a little time alone out back.  I walk up the drive to the mailbox, remembering I never retrieved the mail earlier. 

Nothing but bills and credit card offers in the mail.

I pour myself a glass of iced tea and head out back.  Charlie’s not on the deck, the soda can is there as is his iPad.  I see him out by the pool, skimming leaves off the surface of the water.  I flick the switch for the hot tub and walk down the steps.  I sit on the side of the tub, sticking my feet in.  I’m half tempted to go back in and put on my bathing suit but the urge passes quickly.  Charlie finishes fishing the leaves out of the pool a few minutes later and joins me at the hot tub. 

He’s quiet as he sits next to me, gently kicking his feet through the water. The sun is starting to set over the horizon and the crickets and frogs start their nightly chorus. 

“Honey, are you okay?” I eventually ask as I lean into him a little with my shoulder.

“I think so.  Think you might have been right about things. I feel better now, calmer.  Fresh air helped, I think.  What would you think if I worked from home tomorrow?”

“I think that’s a perfect idea,” I whisper as I scoot over closer to him.  He drapes his arm over my shoulders and kisses my cheek.   “How about some soup for dinner?”

“Sounds great.”

Although Charlie doesn’t eat much at dinner, he does look a lot better and was almost chatty.  He heads up to his office to make a few calls.  I know he wants to call Mac to talk both about the night’s broadcast of News Night and about her visit to see Will.  He also needs to let Pruitt know about tomorrow.  I’m hoping he will just text him and not actually talk to him.

The hope of that happening ends when I hear Charlie’s raised voice floating down the stairs a few minutes before 8:00.  I hear some stomping, the sound of him probably slamming a book down on his oak desk and some choice words he tries not to use in front of me.

Against my better judgment I pour him a drink and take it up to him.  He’s wrapping up the call with Pruitt as I stand in the doorway, waiting for him to finish. He ends the call and tosses the phone halfway across the room, thankfully onto the couch, so not to cause any damage to it.  I hand him the glass and pick up the phone, setting it on the end table next to the couch.  He takes a few sips, savoring the taste of the bourbon before saying anything to me.

“So, the Devil wasn’t too happy,” he snorts as he flicks on the television to watch Sloan fill in for Will on News Night. 

“Yeah, I don’t really care,” I smirk as I take him by the hand and lead him to the couch.  I settle down on the couch and Charlie sits next to me, his bare feet on the coffee table.  The broadcast starts and Charlie starts talking, partly to himself and partly to Mac and Sloan, both of whom, of course, can’t hear him.  I watch with thinly veiled amusement, something I’ve learned to perfect over the past few decades. 

When the bourbon is done I take the glass from him and pull him closer.  He grabs a pillow and settles down with his head in my lap.  I mess with his hair as he watches the second half of the show.  He’s basically stopped the running commentary but does flinch every once in a while when things don’t go the way he had expected.

When the show ends he reaches for the phone to call Don and talk to him before his broadcast.  I leave him alone to do that.  Sitting and watching Charlie talk on the phone really doesn’t excite me all that much.  He blows a kiss in my direction as I head back downstairs.

Charlie comes back down about 9:30 looking a little….something.  Can’t quite put my finger on it.  He passes by the kitchen with his glass in his hand, heading I’m sure to the den for a refill.  I keep my mouth shut, something else I’ve perfected over the years.

I’m emptying the dishwasher when he wanders back in and sits at the kitchen table.  He slides the glass back and forth between his hands, saying nothing.

“Okay Charles, what?” I sigh, not really in the mood to drag things out of him.

“Just trying to convince Don to do the Princeton story.  I know it’s what Pruitt wants, he thinks it’s what our “young” viewers want to see.  But the whole thing is fucking ridiculous.”

I raise my eyebrows as I always do when he drops the f-bomb in our home.

“Sorry.  I hope Don doesn’t do it, hope he doesn’t find her.”

“Charlie is there any chance that Don won’t find her?”

“Yeah, if he suddenly goes deaf, dumb and blind by tomorrow morning,” he snorts.

I can’t help but laugh.  Charlie loves Don, he is so proud of him.  He knows Don will come through and figure things out.  I just hope Charlie is still in one piece when that happens.

I put the last of the dishes away and cross the room to stand behind Charlie.  He leans back a bit and I rub his shoulders a little.  To say he’s tense is an understatement.  His breathing is more ragged than it was when he came down.

“Honey, you’re getting too worked up.  Take a deep breath.”  He manages to take a deep breath.  “Good, hold it for a second,” I coach.  We do a little deep breathing for a few minutes until I’m satisfied he’s gotten himself under control.  He glances at his watch and then drains his glass before heading for the den to watch Elliot’s show.

I check on him halfway through Elliot’s show, he’s in the recliner with a glass in one hand, cell phone in the other.  He’s vaguely aware of my presence as I take a seat on the couch with my book and a cup of tea.

Elliot signs off and Charlie drains his glass once again.  I think he’s catching up on the drinking he didn’t do over the weekend.  I keep my thoughts to myself.  If he wants to drink too much and end up with his head hanging over the toilet, that’s his business.

Who am I kidding, if that happens I will be kneeling behind him holding his head and rubbing his back.

And at a few minutes after midnight that’s exactly where we are.  At least we’re upstairs in our bathroom this time, where there is actually room for the two of us.  I don’t know how much of his current condition has to do with bourbon, he obviously has a great ability to hold his liquor.  Something he has unfortunately perfected over the years.   I stand by my theory that everything is just catching up with him in a miserable way.  I am so happy he has an appointment with Dr. Matthews on Thursday.

“Done?” I whisper a few minutes later.  Charlie nods and I flush and help him to his feet in a scene reminiscent of the one from this afternoon.  He brushes his teeth and walks into the bedroom, facing planting on the bed with a groan.

He’s so pathetic at the moment I really can’t help but laugh. He snorts a little into the comforter before dragging himself up to put his head on his pillow.

“I’m not sure I want to even work from home tomorrow,” he whispers without even opening his eyes.

“It’s up to you, sweetie.”

I nudge him a little to get him under the covers.  He stretches out on his stomach and I rub his back until he falls asleep at little before 1:00 AM.


	5. Chapter 5

Surprisingly, Charlie sleeps through the night.  Me, not so much.  I was up at 3:30 wandering around a little.  Thankfully he never stirred.

It’s now 11:00 he’s holed up in his office attending a meeting via the camera on his laptop.  He got up by 9:00, ate some oatmeal, showered and got to work.  Only thing different from any other day was he had tea instead of coffee.

While he works I make a few notes of things to discuss with Dr. Matthews.  I haven’t quite mentioned it to Charlie but I have every intention of going with him to his appointment.  It’s scheduled for 10:00 and his office is in the city so we will just go in a little earlier than Charlie usually goes in, go to the appointment and I’ll go back to the office with him.  Mac and I have plans for lunch that day.  I’m sure I can entertain myself between his appointment and our lunch date.

I do my best to try not to hover but by 1:00 I’m heading upstairs to check on him.  I haven’t heard a thing from him in over 2 hours, no yelling, no stomping, no throwing of things.

It’s kind of refreshing actually.

He’s sitting on the couch with his cell phone on speaker, legal pad propped on his knees, scribbling quickly in his neat precise handwriting.  Flashing me a big smile he scoots over a little to give me room to sit.  I press a kiss to his cheek.  I can hear the sounds of the rundown coming through the phone.  There’s lively discussion and for a few minutes it sounds like the old ACN.

That is until Pruitt apparently wanders into the room.  Charlie rolls his eyes, mouths a few choice words and holds up his middle finger in reaction to the arrival.  I just shake my head.

“Come eat lunch when the rundown is over,” I tell him as I push myself off the couch.

He appears in the kitchen half an hour later, looking pretty good.  He’s wearing a rather fetching outfit which brings a smile to my face. I guess I didn’t notice when I went up earlier. He’s wearing cargo shorts, a freshly ironed plaid shirt with a polka dot bow tie and his ratty slippers.  I just shake my head and laugh.

“What, when I sit in front of the camera you don’t see me from the waist down,” he explains.

“True but I also don’t think your staff would care if you showed up to a meeting in your pajamas.”

“Staff, probably not.  Pruitt, who the hell knows at this point?” he mutters as he opens the fridge to scan the contents.  He grabs a can of Sprite and hunts through the fridge.

“Can I help you find something?” I offer as I gently move him to the side.  He has the habit of just standing with the fridge door open, a trait he has passed on to a certain 6 year old who is not quite tall enough to even see the top shelf. 

“I don’t know what I want,” he mutters as he closes the door again.  I nudge him in the direction of the island.

“How about a turkey sandwich?” I offer.  I’m not really sure what he feels like eating and at this point I doubt he does either.

“Yeah, sounds fine,” he answers as he pulls the tab and the can of Sprite opens with a slight hiss.

“Cheese?” I ask over my shoulder as now I’m standing with my head in the fridge.

“Sure,” he answers as he flicks on the television.  The scans through CNN and Fox to see what their current coverage is about before landing back on ACN.

I hand him his sandwich which he takes with a grateful smile.

I decide to throw out my idea of going to his appointment when he has a mouthful of sandwich.  Seems like a good idea.

“So on Thursday since I have plans to have lunch with Mac, I thought I would just go with you to your appointment,” I say simply, from the other side of the kitchen.

Takes him about 30 seconds to stop choking and say something. “What?  Why?”

“Because quite frankly I don’t think you’ll be as honest as you should,” I declare, figuring brutally honest is the way to go right now.

He starts to say something a few times but doesn’t exactly get anything out for a good minute or so.

“Fine.   But can we talk about what things you don’t trust me to tell him.”

“Certainly.  Honey, I’m not trying to hide anything from you.  I’m worried about you.  You know that.”

“I do know that.  How about we talk about it later?” he offers as he picks at his sandwich.

I cross the room to give him a hug.  As I wrap him up in a big embrace his phone rings.  We both groan until he looks at the screen, it’s Beau.

He grabs his soda and heads outside to talk with our grandson.  I watch him from the kitchen window.  He looks happy to be talking on the phone for a change. 

“What’s up?” I ask as he comes back in the kitchen after hanging up the phone.

“Beau wanted to know if I was going to be around this weekend.  Think he wants to hang out for a while, probably talk about his parents.  Told him I was free tonight.  He’s coming over for dinner, if that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay.  I should probably go to the food store then,” I mutter as I start opening cabinets deciding what to make for dinner.

“Nancy, pizza would be fine.  You never did get your pizza over the weekend.”

“Okay pizza,” I agree.  “But I do need to go to the store for a few things.  Some salad would be nice. You haven’t had enough green matter in the last few days,” I point out with a smirk.

“Great, just add that to the list of things to discuss with the doctor,” he teases right back.  “I’m going back to work.  He’ll be here about 5:00.”

Charlie kisses my cheek, grabs a banana, a bottle of water and heads back upstairs.

******

A few minutes before 5:00 I hear a car pull in the driveway.  The front door opens and I hear the car pull back out.  I guess Katie just dropped him off.

“I’m in the kitchen, Beau,” I call.

“Hey Nana,” he says as he comes in the room with a big smile on his face and a hug for me. 

“Mom just drop you off?”

“Yeah.  Ned was with her and if he came in he’d never leave,” Beau teased.  “And I wanted it to be just us three for a change,” he admitted quietly.

“Well, we are glad you’re here,” I assure him.  “Ned’s had some time with us alone lately, now it’s your turn.”

“Poppy upstairs?” he asks as he opens the fridge for a drink.  Unlike his brother and grandfather, he grabs what he needs quickly and closes the door.

“Yep,” I answer as I glance at the clock over the sink.  “He should be just about done the last rundown meeting.  We’re ordering pizza.  Do you want pepperoni?”

“Yep.  And brownies for dessert?” he asks hopefully.

“Of course,” I smile as I turn towards the cabinet to get out the baking supplies.

******

Charlie and Beau come downstairs when the rundown is over.  Charlie’s taken off the tie and put on his sneakers.  He and Beau head outside to shoot some hoops before dinner.

“Charlie, be careful,” I call as they go out through the garage.  He’s not as athletic as he thinks he is, he’s obviously also not as young as he used to be.  A combination which doesn’t always make for a happy ending.  I take the brownies out of the oven and make sure we have ice cream, chocolate for Charlie and vanilla for Beau.  

I order the pizza and go out the porch to wait for the delivery.  I watch the “boys” playing basketball by the garage.  Beau has a good sense of how competitive he should really be with his 70 something grandfather.  Charlie’s aim seems to be good but he just seems sluggish. I’m about to just write it off to him not sleeping well when he holds his hand up to let Beau know to stop for a minute.  Charlie leans over, hands on his knees. I’m off the porch swing and at his side in an instant.

“Honey, you okay?” I ask as I crouch down next to him, my hand on his back.

“Not sure,” he chokes out.  He’s breathing heavier than he should be and I can feel his heart racing.

“Take a deep breath, try to slow down your breathing,” I coach.  I look up to see Beau who is standing a few feet away, basketball clutched to his chest he looks like he’s about to burst into tears.  I hold out my other hand to him, he drops the ball and steps towards me. 

“Go get Poppy a bottle of water.”

He nods his head and runs into the house through the garage.

Charlie stands up carefully, his breathing has slowed a little and he’s not quite so pale. 

“You okay to walk to the porch?” I ask as I keep a firm grip on his arm.

He nods and I lead him to the swing.  Beau meets us on the porch, sitting down next to his grandfather.  He opens the water bottle and Charlie takes a sip.

“Okay, what happened?” I ask when it seems like we’ve all calmed down enough to actually have a conversation.

“I just lost my breath, I don’t know,” Charlie answers simply.

“Answer me honestly, any chest pain, anything like that?”

Before he can answer the pizza delivery guy pulls in the driveway.  I hand Beau the money and send him to get our dinner.  When he’s out of earshot I repeat my question.

“Chest pain?”

“Weird feeling, not pain,” Charlie admits, clearly not wanting to have this conversation while Beau is still here.

“We’ll talk later,” I agree and I press my fingers against the inside of his wrist.  His pulse has slowed down to the point where I’m not going to freak out.

Beau takes the pizza inside and we follow him in with Charlie trying to act as natural as possible.  He’s actually doing a pretty good job. Which leads to wonder if he’s been hiding any symptoms from me.

Charlie eats pretty well, finishing two slices and glass of iced tea.  He started to head for the bourbon in the den but a glare from me nixed that idea quickly. 

Beau is quiet during dinner, despite our best efforts to keep the conversation flowing. I know the whole incident scared him.  Hell, it scared me too.

“Why don’t you two go out on the deck?  I’ll bring out dessert in a little while.”

Charlie and Beau talk outside for almost an hour.  The brownies have long cooled but I don’t really want to interrupt what looks like a serious and probably much needed conversation.  Katie admitted to me that Michael, the boys’ father, has started to see someone seriously and it’s causing some issues with the boys.

A crash of thunder and flash of lightning bring them in about 7:30.  They settle at the island and I dish out the ice cream while Beau cuts generous sized brownies. 

We talk and joke for another hour or so.  Beau seems to be in a good mood considering everything.  We talk about his plans for the future.  He’s finishing his junior year of high school and is starting to think about college.  When he was younger he always had grand plans of going far away to school.  But now, I get the feeling he will probably stick closer to home.  He’s taken on more responsibility as “man of the house” than a 17 year old should take on.  Charlie, Katie and I try to minimize this as best we can but he’s mature and with a good head on his shoulders, leading him to take on more than a boy his age probably should.

He declines our offer to stay over but promises to come back to visit over the weekend, with Ned. 

Charlie and Beau go upstairs to the office for a while after dessert.  I’m not privy to the conversation and that’s okay.  We’ve always tried to spend one on one time with each of the boys.

Beau comes down alone a little after 9:00. 

“Poppy asleep?” I ask and I hand him the dishtowel and point towards the dishes in the drainer.  Beau laughs and picks up the brownie pan.

“He’s awake, we watched the second half of News Night.  On the phone now with Don I think.”

“So how was Sloan?” I ask, teasing him a little.  Both my grandsons seem to appreciate the beautiful Miss Sabbith.

“Nana,” he whines as he tries to smack me with the towel.  “Is Poppy really okay?” he asks, his tone turning serious.

“Well, honey you’re old enough for me to tell you….I honestly don’t know.  He’s having a hard time at work, you know about some of that.  He has a doctor’s appointment on Thursday and I hope we get some answers.”

“I ask him if he ever thought about retiring,” Beau mentions as he puts the plates in the cabinet.

“And what did he say?” I ask curiously.

“He used a few words he’s not supposed to use in front of Ned,” Beau laughs.

“Oh I’m sure he did,” I smirk.

“He told me he was going to think about it.  That would be nice.  We could spend more time together,” he says with a grin.

We finish cleaning up the kitchen and I show Beau the progress I’ve made on Ned’s quilt.  He even asks me to make him one when I’m finished Ned’s.

A little before 10:00 I send him up to say goodnight to Charlie so I can drive him home.

By 11:30 Charlie’s sound asleep thanks to an Ambien.  Part of me thinks he eagerly took the Ambien in an effort to avoid a conversation about his earlier symptoms.

That’s okay, we will be having a long conversation tomorrow, prior to his appointment on Thursday.  Not sure when we’ll be having this chat but we will find the time, we always do.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Thankfully we both sleep through the night.  I hear Charlie head into the shower a little after 9:00, his usual time.  I’ve been up for two hours, made coffee and started to make some notes to take to the doctor.  While I have some specific issues to talk about there’s more to it than I can put in to words.  He’s just not himself and while he has every right to be a little “off” given his current circumstances, that doesn’t make it any easier to see my beloved husband suffering, emotionally and physically.

Charlie wanders down about 9:45 as I’m putting a load of laundry in.  Unlike Monday morning, he is completely dressed, pants and all.  I straighten his bowtie a little and smooth down a stray lock of hair which is sticking up.

He’s a little distracted as he eats but I don’t dwell on it.  I’m just happy he’s eating.  His choice of coffee over tea is also a good sign that he’s feeling better.

At 10:30 Chris arrives to collect him and I send him off with a kiss on the cheek and a reminder that we will be talking sometime today.  He gives no protest and for that I am glad.

I put the clothes over to the dryer and quickly shower myself so I can get to my hair appointment on time.

After my appointment I head to my favorite coffee shop for lunch.  I read a little, scan my email on my phone and just relax for the first time in what feels like a very long time.

My text alert goes off as I pour myself another cup of tea.  I take a deep breath and fish my phone out of my bag.  It’s from Mac.

_\--don’t panic, he’s fine.  Wanted me to text you that he ate lunch and to ask you to please stop worrying about him._

I smile to myself and text him back instead of Mac. 

_\--you can text me yourself.  Glad you ate.  When are we talking?_

I don’t expect to get an answer quickly so I set the phone down and pick my book back up.  Before I get through more than a page the phone vibrates again.

_\--I think I’m going to come home after News Night.  Don’t worry, I’m fine, just a little tired.  Would also like to actually be awake when we talk.  See you a little after 10.  Love you._

That’s good, I didn’t really want to have this conversation at midnight with my half asleep husband.

After lunch I run a few errands, pick up some food for a late night snack as I’m sure the conversation will call for some sustenance.  I’m sure he’d be fine with just bourbon, but lots of bourbon on an empty stomach is not going to happen.  I’ve spent too much time kneeling behind him in the bathroom lately.

When I get home I sew for a while, water the plants and read my email.  I talk to Katie for a bit.  Apparently she and Beau had a nice conversation after I dropped him off last night.  She also let me know that Beau had told her about what happened when he and Charlie were playing basketball.  I assured her that I would call her tomorrow after the doctor’s appointment.

I finish the leftover pizza for dinner and by 8:00 I am completely bored and fidgety.  I still have two hours before Charlie gets home.  I head for the den and flick on News Night.  I fold a load of laundry, dust a little and in general find anything which will hold my attention.

By the time Sloan signs off I am about to jump out of my own skin.  I go up to take a shower to try and relax a little.  I know if I’m already this wound up that Charlie’s wound ten times tighter.

I hear the front door open a few minutes after 10:00. I take a deep breath and head to the foyer to meet Charlie.  He comes in the door with a smile and a small bouquet of flowers.

“For you,” he says as he kisses my cheek.  He kicks the door closed and puts his briefcase on the bench.

“Thanks.”

“Did you eat dinner?” I ask as he follows me into the kitchen.  I pull a vase out of the cabinet and put the flowers in it.

“I had some kind of salad Sloan left on my desk.  Tasted like weeds,” he snorts.

I can’t help but snort back a little.  “You want a snack.  Cheese and crackers?” I offer.

“Sounds great.”

As I open the fridge and start to pull out the cheese I hear him leave the room and head down the hall, to the bourbon, no doubt.  I’ve learned to pick my battles over the years, fighting about bourbon tonight is nothing worth arguing over.  I’m sure there will be plenty to argue about in half hour or so.

“Do you want to go outside?” Charlie asks as he appears back in the kitchen in a minute later.  Shirttails are now hanging out, his tie and shoes are missing.

“Sure.  Here put these on the plate,” I direct as I hand him a box of crackers.  “Can you pour me a glass of wine?  There’s some in the fridge.”  No sense in letting him drink alone.

We settle down outside.  It’s beautiful night, warm enough to sit out without a sweater.

“So I assume this conversation is going to involve you making an extensive list of things to talk to Dr. Matthew’s about?” he asks without attitude.

“I have a list inside and I can get it if you want,” I offer with a smirk.

“I think we’ll make do without it for now,” he mutters as he reached for his drink.  “Go ahead you can start.”

“Well, we talked about mentioning anxiety and the possibility of taking something.  You’ve done it in the past.  I don’t know about you but I’m a fan of you taking something regularly and not something as you need it.”

“Well given my, what doctors would call “addictive” personality, that sounds like a better option,” he says as he raises his glass in a small salute.  “Sleep issues go on the list, I guess.”

“Lack of appetite.”

“Puking,” he adds with a groan.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to be that graphic,” I tease as I reached for my wine.

Charlie takes a long sip of bourbon and I can tell he’s trying to decide what to say next.  I have a few things to add, not the least of which is what happened yesterday when he was playing basketball with Beau.

“Depression,” he states simply. 

His admission surprises me. 

“Didn’t think I’d say it, did you?” he asks with a wry smile.

“Not really,” I admit. 

“And now for the big elephant in the room,” he mutters as he gets up to pace a little.  I let him be for a minute while I go in to grab a bottle of water.  Feeling generous, I grab the bottle of bourbon from the den for him.

“Trying to liquor me up?” he teases as I come back out a minute later.

“You don’t need any help with that,” I remind him. He takes the bottle and pours himself a generous 3 fingers worth.

“So we didn’t really talk about what happened in the driveway yesterday,” I start carefully as I settle myself down in one of the lounge chairs. I kick my flip flops off and curl up a little.  “Let’s start this way.  Was that the first time anything like that happened?” I ask, pretty sure I already know the answer.

“No,” he answers as he sit down at the end of the chair I’m currently occupying.  He’s facing away from me, clearly not wanting to look at me as he makes his admission.  I nudge him a little with my foot to get him to elaborate.

“It’s happened a few times in the last, uh, 6 weeks.  No pain but my heart races and it just feels odd, can’t really explain it.  Not pain exactly, but not something that should be happening, I suppose.  Dizzy and short of breath once in a while.”

Charlie pulls his feet up to sit cross legged on the end of my lounge chair.  I push myself to sitting and lean against him, resting my chin on his shoulder.  I wrap my arms around him and hold him tight.

“Everything’s just a fucking mess,” he whispers as he wraps his hands around my arms. 

“I know it seems that way now,” I whisper.  I want to tell him everything will be okay, but I can’t. I don’t know that it will be okay, neither of us know that.  I scoot back a little, pulling him with me.  He settles himself against my chest and takes a deep breath.  I know he’s trying his best to not get too worked up but I can feel his breathing and heart beat quicken.

“Take a deep breath, sweetie,” I coach.

He turns on his side a little and I rest my hand on his chest.  He takes a few halting deep breaths.

“Better?” I whisper.  He shakes his head against my chest.  Tears spring to my eyes as I press a kiss to his forehead.

He starts to shake and I soon realize mine are not the only tears being shed.  Lacking the right words to say I settle for rubbing his back and just holding him tight.  Neither of us are in any shape to participate in a coherent conversation right now. Half a century’s worth of non-verbal communication will have to suffice right now.

Eventually he stops shaking but makes no effort to untangle himself from my embrace.  A good ten minutes pass by before he makes any effort to say a word.

“Do we really have to write all that down?” he eventually asks with a little chuckle.

“I think I got it,” I whisper back. 

“You know what I need?” he asks as he sits up quickly.  Judging by the look in his eyes and the fact that he just got very pale, sitting up quickly wasn’t the best idea.

“Dizzy?” I guess.  He nods as he swings his legs over the side of the lounger and I guide his head down a little.  “So what do you need?" I ask when I’m sure he’s not about to pass out.

“Ice cream.”

“Me too,” I agree.  I help him to his feet.  When I’m sure he’s steady enough to head inside I let him go while I grab the plates and glasses off the table.

We curl up on the couch in the den with a big bowl of ice cream to share.  ACN plays in the background out of habit more than anything else.

By 12:30 the remaining bit of ice cream has long since melted and Charlie is fading fast.  He’s stretched out on the couch, head in my lap, struggling to keep his eyes open.  We should go to bed but we’re just too comfortable at the moment.  But we do need to leave a little earlier than Charlie normally leaves in the morning so I nudge him a little, help him to his feet and point him in the direction of the stairs.


	7. Chapter 7

*****

I wake up to find I’m alone.  I reach my hand out to Charlie’s side of the bed, it’s still warm.  Bathroom door is open.  I can hear him in the kitchen.  The smell of fresh brewed coffee hits my nose as I grab my robe and head for the stairs.

By 8:45 we are on our way into the city.  In my purse is the “list of doom” as Charlie was calling it over breakfast this morning.

By the time 10:15 rolls around it is obvious the doctor is already running late.  Charlie is next to me sitting about as still as Ned does.  Which is to say he is about to jump out of his skin.  I put my hand on his knee in a silent gesture which says “sit still”.  He gives me an appropriately guilty look and picks up a random magazine.

His name is finally called and I let him go alone.  I don’t need to be there for the actual exam.

A little over an hour later we walk out of the office, our heads swimming with information. Dr. Matthews was less than happy, as expected.  He wants Charlie to have some tests, cardiac catheterization, stress test among them.  He needs to have blood work and a GI workup. Charlie got the lecture on eating right, exercising regularly and getting enough sleep, not to mention, cutting down on the bourbon. None of these things come as a surprise to us.

Blood pressure was much higher than it had been.  Dr. Matthews changed the hypertension meds a little and wrote a script for Zoloft which should help with both depression and anxiety.  He wasn’t too keen on giving benzos to my husband and his self-proclaimed addictive personality.  I whole heartedly agreed with him on that point.

 There’s not one thing specific thing he was worried about, it was more the “big picture” scenario which had him being very blunt with us.  A trait he shares with my husband.  Which is probably why Charlie and I both like him a lot.

His blunt words which stick with us as we walk to the AWM building hand in hand are, “things need to change now or there will be a major event in the near future.”

It’s just after 12:00 when we head into the building.  The guards wave us in and I press the button for the elevator.

“You sure you want to go in, we could always make a run for it and go back home,” I say, only half teasing.

“I need to go to work,” Charlie answers simply and I’m not going to argue with him. 

We are thankfully alone on the elevator.  I straighten his striped bow tie and kiss him gently.  We head to his office.  I kick off my shoes and sink into the leather couch as he boots up his computer and spends a few minutes glancing at his email and talking with his secretary.

He heads for the rundown meeting at 12:30 with a little wave and a sad smile.  I read for a while, enjoy the view of the city from his window and watch the ACN feed.

At 1:30 he and Mac come back to his office.  After he promises to eat something resembling real food, Mac and I head out to lunch.

*****  
“So Charlie wasn’t exactly forthcoming with any information about his appointment this morning,” Mac says after we’re seated in a little coffee shop around the corner.

“Not surprising,” I mutter as I pick up the menu.  “Didn’t exactly go well.”

“Anything specific?” she asks as she reaches for her glass of water.

“Blood pressure is sky high, as you can well imagine.  We got a warning of an undesirable event happening in the near future if things don’t change.”

“How did he take that?”

“Very quietly actually, which scares me to death.”

The waitress comes to take our order, tuna sandwich for me, tomato soup and grilled cheese for Mac.

“Quietly?” Mac repeats.  “That is scary.”

“I’m watching him spiral downward before my eyes.  He’s an emotional and physical wreck.  I’ve spent way too much time holding his head and rubbing his back in the bathroom this week.  Half the time I have to fight to get him to eat.  I’ve all but shoved Ambien in him for the past 6 weeks.  I don’t know how much more either of us can take.  I’m exhausting trying to make sure he’s still in one piece.”

Mac reaches across the table and pats my hand, which turns out to be my undoing.  She comes to the other side of the booth and sits next to me, handing me tissues from her purse.

 I’ve calmed down by the time our food comes.  Mac returns to her side of the booth and we start to eat, or more specifically I eat while Mac pushes her food around her plate, much like Charlie’s been doing lately.

“Not hungry?”

“I don’t know.  Been feeling a little off these past few weeks.  Guess I’m just missing my husband,” she replies as she absently twirls her wedding ring on her finger.  “I’m just exhausted too.  We are quite the pair, I suppose,” she laughs as she takes a small bite of her sandwich.

My text alert chimes and I fish my phone out. 

_\--Sloan and Don are making me eat grilled chicken_

I laugh a little and show the text to Mac before shooting off a quick text in reply.

_\--you’ll live…probably longer_

As soon as I hit SEND I regret it, maybe it’s a little too soon to be joking like that.

_\--cute_

Good he took my teasing okay.

“How’s the retirement discussion going?” Mac asks.

“An actual discussion has yet to happen, but at least when I mention it Charlie doesn’t go ballistic anymore.  Beau was over Tuesday night, apparently he asked Charlie about retiring.”

“How did that go?”

“He told Beau he was thinking about it.  So I’m going to try to have an actual conversation this weekend.”

“Would you like backup?” Mac offers. 

I consider the offer for a minute.  Maybe there is strength in numbers.

“I think I’d like that.  You want to catch a ride home with Charlie on Friday?  We can hang out by the pool on Saturday and double team him at some point.”

“Sounds perfect,” Mac replied with a smile.  She picks at her sandwich a bit more and takes a couple bites of soup before she turns slightly green.  Pushing the food away she takes a few deep breaths and a sip of water.

“Looking a little green there Mac,” I point out.  “You sure something else isn’t up?” I ask with a wink.

She looks at me for a few seconds and I look of horror comes over her face.

“Oh my God,” she mutters as she whips out her phone and opens the calendar app.  “No, can’t be, there’s no way.”  She holds up her fingers, clearly counting the weeks and/or months.

I wave the waitress over for our check, while Mac excuses herself to go to the restroom.

We walk back to the AWM building, the fresh air seems to help Mac a little and her color looks better by the time we get on the elevator.

Mac heads to her office, probably to freak out a little.  I head up to Charlie’s office.

“Is here in there?” I ask his secretary as I walk past her desk.

“I actually think he might have fallen asleep.  He didn’t pick up the phone a minute ago.”

“Well, a nap’s not the worst idea he’s had today,” I reply with a little smile as I quietly open the door to his office.

She was correct, he’s in his chair, feet on the desk, snoring softly.  The remains of his healthy lunch are on his desk, as is a glass of what I assume is bourbon.  I’m actually afraid to wake him for fear he will startle out of the chair and end up on the floor, not exactly what we need today.  I just sit on the couch and flip through a magazine.

At 3:40 I realize he has a rundown meeting in 20 minutes and he’s still sound asleep.  Just as I’m deciding the best way to wake him, which won’t result in him ending up on the floor, his cell vibrates and he wakes instantly.  Luckily he does realize he’s in his desk chair and doesn’t make any large, sudden movements.  He glances at the readout while he wipes his mouth as there is a very good chance he was drooling.

“Hey, sleepy,” I tease as I cross the room.  He drops his feet to the floor and scoots his chair back a little, giving me room to lean against the edge of his desk in front of him.  Scooting forward again he leans into me, head on my stomach, arms wrapped around me.  I kiss the top of his head and smooth down his hair.  “You okay?”

“I don’t know,” he admits.  “How was lunch?”

“Good, had a nice chat.”

“About me I suppose.”

“Among other things. I invited Mac to come stay Friday night.  Hope that’s okay.”

“Of course it is.  We can have Katie and the boys over Saturday too.  I’ll grill for everyone,” he offers, making no effort to move.

“As comfortable as this is now, you have a meeting,” I remind him as I rub his back a little.  “How late are you staying tonight?”

“Not late, probably leave after News Night.  You want to just stay here and wait for me?”

“Sounds perfect,” I agree as he sits up.  I straighten his bowtie, kiss his cheek and send him on his merry way.

I spend the next two hours reading and relaxing.  Charlie pops in a few times to check on me.  We go out to grab a snack around 6:30.  Food was my idea, not his, but he didn’t protest and he did eat something.

At 7:55 we head to the control room to watch the broadcast.  It’s been a while since I’ve watched from this vantage point.  It’s odd to see Sloan up there with the News Night logo.  She’s been awesome these last few weeks but I know there’s nothing more in the world she’d rather do than go back to her own show and return News Night back to its rightful anchor.

Halfway through the broadcast Don comes in and stands next to me in the back.  It’s clear to me he’s much more interested in the anchor than the content.  By the look on his face I can tell he really is completely smitten by the lovely Miss Sabbith. 

Sloan signs off and Don scoots by me to go around and meet her at the anchor desk.

Charlie meets me at the back of the control room with a quick kiss. He throws his arm around my shoulders and we stand and watch Don and Sloan for a minute.  Don’s leaning against the anchor desk talking with his hands.  She’s clearly hanging on every word.  She reaches out to put her hand on his hip and he tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.  They are oblivious to the fact they are still in the middle of the studio. 

It’s absolutely adorable.

Charlie lets out a big sigh and leans over to whisper in my ear.  “Get me out of here, I’m done.”  All of the sudden he just looks and sounds exhausted.  We say some quick goodbyes, hug Mac and I lead him into the bullpen.  I deposit him at a random desk while I got up to his office to grab our bags. 

As he probably does most nights lately, Charlie sleeps a good deal of the way home.  I nudge him awake as Chris turns the car into the driveway. 

“You going to bed?” I ask as he shrugs out of his jacket.

“I don’t know,” he mutters as he heads for the kitchen.  He sits at the island, propping his chin up in one hand.

I turn the tea kettle on and hand him the basket of teabags.  He picks out what he wants and unwraps it.  He takes the mug I hand him with a tired little smile. 

“So we didn’t really talk about the appointment,” I start carefully.  I have no idea if he’s actually in the mood or in the right state of mind to have this conversation.

“It was pretty scary,” he sighs as he puts his hands in his lap and slumps over a little.  He fiddles with his wedding ring, not looking up at me.

I cross the room and reach to tip up his chin so he does look at me.  “I’ll start making some appointments tomorrow,” I offer.  He nods in agreement.  “Where are the prescriptions?”

“Uh, jacket pocket I think,” he answers after taking a few seconds to remember.  I find them tucked in the inside pocket of his jacket.  I leave them on the counter so I can take them to the drug store in the morning.  “You look exhausted.  I don’t think this is the time to have a serious conversation about the future. Why don’t you take your tea into the den and relax?”

He nods, kisses my cheek and slides off the stool.

I go up to change, giving us both a little time alone.  I put on an old pair of pajamas and curl up in the chair by the window.  As I replay some of the conversation with Dr. Matthews my vision blurs and the tears start to fall.

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know it is midnight and Charlie is kneeling next to me, gently stroking my hair.

“Nancy, honey.  Come to bed,” he whispers.

In my half-awake state I nod and climb into bed.  Charlie brushes his teeth and crawls in next to me.


	8. Chapter 8

Friday dawns with a heat and humidity we haven’t seen yet this June.  As a result, Charlie is having trouble getting moving this morning.  I had planned on offering to drive him over to the lab to get his bloodwork done but I don’t see him moving fast enough this morning for that.  I will send him tomorrow morning to get it done.

We go over the calendar and pick out a few dates which would work for him to have his testing done.  Truth is, I’m taking the first available dates.  I’m sure deep down Charlie knows this.

Charlie grabs a piece of paper after pouring himself a second cup of coffee.  He makes a quick shopping list so I can do to the store for our BBQ tomorrow. 

“Exactly how many people are we having over?” I ask, looking at the rather extensive list.

“Was thinking about seeing if Beau’s friends want to come too.   You okay with me asking Don and Sloan to come?”

“Sure, whoever you want.”   I’m just happy to see him excited about something.

I take a quick look at the time and send him up to shower.  I load the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher and start to gather the information I’ll need to make the appointments.

Charlie heads out to wait for Chris on the porch a few minutes before 11:00.  I get a quick shower before heading out to do the shopping with Katie, who has graciously offered to help me out.  She will swing by school and pick up Ned on her way over, it’s the last day of school and he has a half day.  He will be thrilled at the idea of a little party planning.  He really is an old soul in a 6 year old body.

After we get back from the food store and the drug store Katie fixes us a late lunch while I make a few calls to schedule some of Charlie’s appointments.  I’m able to get the stress test scheduled for next Wednesday and an appointment with a GI doctor for a week from today.  I will send him out for the bloodwork in the morning.

By dinner time the party prep is well underway.  Ned is currently kneeling at the island tearing apart Romaine lettuce for Caesar salad.  Katie is mixing some cole slaw and I’m cutting fruit for a huge fruit salad.  The chicken is marinating and the corn has been husked.  Katie and Ned baked a cake earlier, which just needs to be frosted in the morning. 

“Nana, what’s for dinner?” Ned asks as he finishes up the lettuce. 

“Hadn’t thought about it, buddy.  What do you want?”

“Grilled cheese?” he asks.  Good, something quick and easy.

“I’ll do it,” Katie offers as I’m still elbow deep in watermelon.

Twenty minutes later we take a break to have our sandwiches and some potato chips. 

After eating, Ned has had enough of helping us.  He heads for the den with his Legos and a juice box.  Katie starts the clean up so I can go upstairs and make sure everything in the guest room is ready for Mac’s arrival.  Charlie says they will be here by 10:30, I’m thinking closer to 11:00 is more realistic.

Katie and Ned head out a little after 9:00.  She had to carry him out as he was half asleep.  He had asked to stay over but when I told him that Mac would be staying in the guest room he decided to go home.  We made plans for him to stay over next Monday. Katie is an interior designer and she has an all-day meeting in the city so we offered to take Ned.  She’ll be home by early evening but I’m sure she will not be able to drag Ned home. 

I load the dishwasher for the second time today and make myself a cup of tea while I wait for Charlie and Mac.  Eventually I settle in the den to watch Elliot while I wait.

As Elliot signs off I hear the car in the driveway.  I open the front door to greet them.  Mac bounds up the two steps with her arms full.  She’s got her bags as well as Charlie’s bag.  He trails behind her, clearly exhausted from the long week.  I take his briefcase from Mac as she puts her bags on the landing at the bottom of the stairs.  She gives me a big hug, like we haven’t seen each other in weeks.  In reality it’s been about 26 hours.

“Tea?” I ask her as I reach for the jacket Charlie’s about to just toss on the bench.

“Sounds lovely?  I’m just going to go change out of these clothes,” she says with a smile as she grabs her bags and heads up the stairs.

“Hello,” I say to Charlie as I wrap him in a big hug.  “You okay?”

“Just tired.  It’s been a long fucking week,” he mutters.

“Language Charlie,” I warn.  “You go up and get changed too.  I’ll make us all tea.”

Mac appears 5 minutes later having traded her pencil skirt and silk blouse for yoga pants and an ACN t-shirt.  Her hair’s pulled back in a messy ponytail and he face has been scrubbed clean of the day’s makeup.

“He had a pretty good day,” she says, answering my unasked question.  “Slept part of the way home.  Didn’t eat much for dinner.”

“What about you?  How are you feeling?” I ask, curious if my theory is correct.

“About the same,” she admits.

“Did you take a test?” I ask, listening for the sound of Charlie coming down the stairs.

“I have it in my bag.  I’ll do it tomorrow,” she whispers.

Charlie pads down the stairs a minute later, as the tea kettle starts to whistle.  He sits at the table while  I pour tea for all of us.

“You want something to eat?” I ask Charlie.  He turns to glare a little at Mac.

“Snitch,” he teases with a little grin.  “Peanut butter and jelly,” he states after he thinks about it for a minute.

I make two sandwiches as Mac decides that PB&J does sound pretty good.

Charlie manages to stay awake long enough to eat the sandwich and finish his tea.  I open up the bag with the prescriptions I picked up earlier.  Taking a glance at the directions I hand him a pill which he takes without complaint.

He kisses both of us goodnight and drags himself up the stairs to bed.  Mac and I refill our mugs and go to the den to chat for a while.

It’s almost 1:00 by the time Mac and I run out of things to talk about and head to bed.


	9. Chapter 9

My internal alarm goes off at 7:30 and I nudge Charlie, who is of course still sound asleep.

“What?” he asks as he pulls the covers back up so the only thing visible is a lock of silver hair.

“I want you to go have your bloodwork done,” I explain as I pull the covers off his head. 

“Now?” he whines. 

“Now.  You need to get there early before it gets crowded.  Plus it’s not like you can eat before you go.”

I’m rewarded with a grunt as he pushes back the covers and rubs his eyes a bit.

“I’ll let you drive yourself,” I bargain, figuring that might get him moving.

“Fine,” he agrees. 

With another grunt he pushes himself off the bed, grabs some clothes and heads for the bathroom.  He comes out a few minutes later in cargo shorts and a polo shirt.  He shoves his feet into his shoes and heads downstairs.

I head down a minute later, after grabbing a load of laundry.

“Nancy, where are my car keys?” he asks as I hit the bottom

 step and head for the kitchen.  It’s probably been two weeks since he’s driven and it doesn’t surprise me he has no idea where his keys are.

“Try the table in the foyer.”

“Found them,” he announces as he comes back in the kitchen.

I hand him the prescription, kiss his cheek and send him on his way.  As soon as he closes the front door, Mac comes down the stairs carrying a small paper bag.

“God, I thought he’d never leave.  I really have to pee,” she says as she heads for the powder room.

She comes out a minute later holding the test stick and her cellphone with the timer open.

“Three minutes,” she announces.

“Coffee?”

“Probably not the best idea right now, maybe later,” she answers as she paces around. 

The phone beeps and I put down my mug.  She looks at the screen and there is an unmistakable plus sign.  She drops the stick on the floor and as the tears start she puts her head in her hands.  My tears start to fall approximately 30 seconds after hers.  We hug each other and jump around like teenagers.

“Oh my God, a baby.  I am too old for this,” she says as she wipes her eyes and takes a deep breath.  “Will, I have to tell Will.  I can’t tell him over the phone.  Wait, I want to make sure.  Doctor’s appointment first.   Should I wait to tell him?”

“That’s up to you.”

“I think I want to be sure,” she says firmly.  “Yes, I do.  Let me call my doctor and see if I can get an appointment.

While she goes to the den make the call in private, I take out the cake Katie and Ned baked yesterday so I can frost it.

“I have an appointment for Thursday morning,” she announces as she comes back into the kitchen.

“Okay.  My lips are sealed,” I promise.  I finish frosting the cake as Mac paces around a little.

“I think I want to tell Charlie,” she says as she abruptly stops her pacing to look out the sliding glass door.

“You sure?”

“Not completely, but I also don’t think you and I can keep it to ourselves for almost a week.  I think it would cheer him up too.”

“I’m sure he will be over the moon.  He’s always thought Will would make a great father.”

We quickly eat some cereal and start to get things ready for the BBQ.  As we finish rearranging the furniture on the deck and out by the pool I hear Charlie pull into the driveway.  He finds us out back.  Given the fact that he’s got Band-aids on both arms, things didn’t go so smoothly at the lab.

“Should I even ask?” I smirk as I point to his arms.

“Apparently, I did not have good veins today, whatever that means,” he replies with a shrug of his shoulders.  “They said I’m probably just a little dehydrated.”

“Yeah, that’s not an excuse to drink bourbon,” I smirk.  “What’s in there?” I ask, pointing to the white paper bag in his hand.

“Donuts, Mac’s favorites,” he announces as he hands he bag to Mac.  She accepts them with a smile and plants a kiss on his cheek.

Don and Sloan are set to arrive about noon, the rest of the guests about 2:00.  That gives us a little over two hours to double team Charlie into a conversation about retirement.

I put on another pot of coffee and convince Charlie to eat something a little healthier than a jelly donut for breakfast.  Mac, on the other hand is apparently now feeling fine and all but inhales a donut, not bothering to wait for the coffee.  Charlie takes two mugs out to the deck where Mac is contemplating a second donut.  I leave them alone for a few minutes while I make Charlie some oatmeal, hoping to give her time to tell Charlie her news.

I look out the window over the sink a minute later as Charlie jumps to his feet, grabs Mac and spins her around.

Charlie looks happier than he has been in…about 7 weeks. 

When the oatmeal is done I take it out and the three of us settle down at the table.  Charlie starts eating and Mac and I make small talk for a few minutes, very obvious small talk.  And my husband is pretty smart.

“Okay, whatever the two of you have to say, let’s hear it.  We have things to do,” he says with a smirk.  I’m pretty sure he knows what we’re about to talk about.

“Okay,” Mac starts carefully.  I’m sure she’s trying to decide how to ease into the conversation.  “Charlie, you need to retire,” she says bluntly.  

“So much for easing into things, Mac,” I groan. 

“It’s okay,” Charlie assures her.  “Deep down I know that’s what I need to do.  But knowing it and being able to do it are two very different things.  News is my life and it has been for a very, very long time.”  He takes a deep breath and scrubs his hand down his face.  “But these last few weeks have been hell on all of us.”

“It’s been worse for you,” Mac states simply.  “You have been caught in the middle since the day Pruitt first walked into the bullpen.  And I’ll admit, we haven’t exactly made it easy for you.  I can’t speak for the rest of your team but I apologize from the bottom of my heart,” she says quietly, her voice cracking at the end.  She wipes away a tear as Charlie reaches for her hand.

“You’re all just doing your job.  And I’m trying to do mine.  But in the last week or so I’ve realized I’m just running myself into the ground.   And I’m dragging people down with me,” he says as he reaches for my hand. 

Great, now Mac and I are both crying.

“Given the rather ominous prediction of Dr. Matthews, I think maybe it is time to really think about it.  I want to spend more time with my family…and friends,” he adds as he winks at Mac.  “Not to mention my soon-to-be honorary grandchild.” Mac smiles as wipes away some more tears.

Her phone rings and she steps back into the house to take the call.

“We need to have a serious conversation, you and me,” he says as he squeezes my hand.  I just nod as I wipe away another tear.  He lifts my hand and presses a kiss across my knuckles.

I stand up and press a kiss to the top of his head.

 “I love you,” I whisper.

“Love you too,” he replies as he pulls me into his lap, holding me tight for a minute.  I can tell he’s on the verge of getting emotional too.  He tucks his head under my chin and takes a few deep, measured breaths as I rub his back.  “I mean it, you and me, a serious conversation tomorrow,” he promises.  I can only nod.

When Mac comes back outside Charlie untangles himself from my embrace.  I stand to let him up. He grab the mugs and heads towards the door.

“I’m going to take a quick shower.  Where are the pills from yesterday?” he asks over his shoulder as he steps over the threshold.

“I put everything in the medicine cabinet in our bathroom.  I took out the bottles you don’t need anymore.”

“Okay,” he answers.

Mac comes out a minute later.

“He promised a real conversation tomorrow,” I tell Mac with a sigh.

“That’s good right?” she asks.

“It is, but it is also terrifying.”

“It is,” she agrees as she gives me a quick hug.

*****

I hear the front door open a few minutes after noon.  Little footsteps soon follow as well as a voice yelling “Poppy!!”

“Poppy’s out back, Ned,” I call from the kitchen where I’m busy slicing tomatoes and onions for the burgers.

“Hi Nana,” Ned calls as he scoots through the kitchen on his way out the back door.  “Hey, not so fast mister,” I tease.  Ned stops at the door, turns around and comes over to hug me.  “That’s better.  Say hi to Mac.”

“Hey Mac,” he says as he gives her the quickest of hugs before bolting for the back door and his beloved Poppy.  “Odd that he didn’t ask where Will is,” she muttered, more to herself than me.

“Uh, Katie had a little talk with him yesterday.  He knows Will is “away” but we’ve been pretty careful not to let him hear the word “jail”.  I don’t think we’d be able to explain being jailed for journalistic integrity to a 6 year old.”

“Good call, thanks,” Mac replies with a smile.

Katie comes in the front door a minute later carrying a tray of Rice Krispie treats and Ned’s backpack.  “I think that boy was out of the car before I had it in park,” she mutters as she hands Mac the tray.  “He wanted to come over when he got up this morning….at 6:30!  How’s Will?” she asks as she sets the backpack on one of the kitchen chairs.

“Hanging in there, thanks for asking,” Mac replies as she turns to grab something out of the fridge.  “And thanks for talking to Ned,” she adds.

“You’re welcome,” Katie assures her with a smile.

Beau arrives a little while later, accompanied by three friends from his band.  We put them to work lugging the soda, beer and water bottles out to the deck to put them in the coolers Charlie dragged out earlier.  All the boys are really nice kids, Beau’s been friends with them since they were all Ned’s age.  By 1:30 the four of them are in the pool.  Surprisingly Ned is not in the pool yet.  Probably has to do with the fact he seems to be attached at the hip to Charlie, who is definitely not in the mood to go swimming. 

Sloan and Don arrive a few minutes after 2:00 carrying wine and cookies.  Don goes out to the deck, grabs a beer and heads out by the pool to say “hi” to Charlie who is watching Ned as he just got in the pool.

The “girls” and I get the appetizers out and pour ourselves some drinks, wine for all of us but Mac.  Hopefully nobody will get suspicious over her lack of wine.  We engage in lots of girl talk, mostly centering around Don and Sloan’s relationship. 

At 3:30 I’m about to find Charlie and have him start the grill.  Takes me a minute to find him.  He’s in the driveway with Beau’s friends and Don.  Thankfully he seems to be observing the basketball game this time.  I don’t need a repeat of what happened earlier in the week, especially not with a yard full of people.  He excuses himself and heads out to the deck to turn on the grill.

Sloan offers to help him man the grill while Ned and Katie help me carry the rest of the food out to the serving table.  We all gather on the deck half an hour later ready to eat.  After a quick blessing by Charlie the teens motion for the adults to grab some food first.  We accept the offer graciously.

Exactly half an hour after he finishes eating, Ned manages to convince both Don and Charlie to go in the pool with him.  I turn on the hot tub immediately, the guys are going to need it.  The pool is fairy warm but it’s still the middle of June and the air temperature is already starting to drop as the sun sets lower in the sky.

Eventually Beau and his friends end up back in the pool too, playing a game which seems to involve seeing how far they can throw Ned, who is in his glory.  Don and Charlie take the opportunity to escape the pool and head for the hot tub to warm up.  I take some towels down them as Mac and Katie clean up the deck a little.  I sit on the edge of the hot tub next to Charlie.  The warm water is just lovely.  Don and I chat for a while, carefully avoiding the topic of ACN in general.  Charlie is quiet, a little too quiet if you ask me.  Eventually Sloan calls Don and he climbs out, gratefully taking the towel I brought him.

I scoot over a little and maneuver myself so Charlie is sitting between my knees.  “You okay, sweetie?” I ask as I put my hands on his shoulders and lean over to whisper in his ear.

“Yeah, just worn out.  I’m okay,” he says quietly.  I kiss his cheek as Ned comes running over in tears. 

“What happened?” Charlie asks as Ned climbs in the hot tub and sits in his lap.  He’s got his hand over his mouth and I can see blood.

“Beau’s head hit my lip,” he cries. 

By now Beau has gotten out of the pool to check on him.  He apologizes to his little brother and goes to get an ice pack out of the freezer. 

“Let me see,” Charlie says as he moves Ned’s hand out of the way a little.  There’s a fair amount of blood but I realize it looks worse than it is because Ned is dripping wet from the pool.  “Well, you’re going to have a fat lip, buddy,” he announces.  I wipe his face with a towel and take a closer look.  There’s small cut where his little tooth cut into his lip.   His teeth are still intact although I’m sure he’d be fine with them becoming a little loose.  His friends have all lost numerous teeth and he has yet to lose any.

“Everything okay?” Katie calls from the deck.

“He’s okay.  Beau’s getting ice,” I call back.  I push Ned’s hair back and kiss his forehead.  Beau brings the ice pack and Ned settles down next to Charlie for a few minutes.  I slip back up to the deck to check on the clean-up progress.

By the time the sun has set all the boys are out by the fire pit making s’mores.  Ned’s recovered from his little accident but he will have a nice fat lip in the morning.  Somehow melted chocolate and marshmallow make everything a little bit better.

The girls and I are still on the deck with some tea and cake.  Don and Charlie have disappeared, along with a plate of assorted desserts.  I imagine they are in the den drinking.

“How’s Charlie doing, really?” Sloan asks as she stabs a forkful of cake.

“Honestly, things have been more difficult than I could have ever imagined. Worried about his health.  He had a physical on Thursday and things did not go well.  Will be having some tests in the next few weeks.”

“I feel responsible for some of his problems,” Sloan says with a sigh.

“I know you do, all of you do, but it’s not your fault.  You’re all trying to do your best in a horrible situation.  You’re all caught in the middle, Charlie included.”

Mac and Sloan nod in agreement. 

Ned wanders up to the deck.  He’s pretty much covered in chocolate and marshmallow.  He’s also shivering.  Katie takes him inside to get him cleaned up and into something warmer.  I head in to check on my missing husband.

As predicated he is in the den with Don.  They are watching a baseball game on the television.  Well, in Charlie’s case, watching is an exaggeration, he is half asleep.  Don is stretched out on the couch and Charlie is in the recliner, empty glass beside him.  Don smiles as I poke my head in the room.  He glances at his watch and gets up.  I imagine he, Sloan and Mac need to start heading back to the city. 

Sloan and Mac are outside on the lounge chairs, about as awake as Charlie.  Don crawls up Sloan’s chair to snuggle with her despite her weak protests.  I pack up some goodies for all of them to take home.  Beau and his friends say their goodbyes and head home. 

Charlie wakes up long enough to say goodbye to Mac, Sloan and Don.  He shuffles back into the den with Ned following.

Katie and I make one last sweep of the deck, bringing in the few stray cups and dishes.

“More tea?” Katie asks as she closes and starts the dishwasher.

“Sure.”

Katie and I settle at the island with our tea and the few remaining cookies. 

“So how’s Dad, really?” she asks.

“I don’t know.  Physically he’s been okay the last few days.  Eating and sleeping better.  I know the doctor’s appointment really freaked him out.  And while I don’t like to see him freaked out, I’m almost glad.  Maybe now something will change.  Mac and I talked to him this morning.”

“Double teamed him?” Katie teases.

“Exactly.  Not a big conversation but your Dad did promise that we would be have a serious talk tomorrow.”

“Oh, that reminds me, the boys and I won’t be at church tomorrow.  They are going with Michael in the morning and I have to get some things done for my meeting on Monday.”

“Dad’s going to miss his little office buddy tomorrow afternoon.”

“They can spend some time together on Monday before Dad leaves for work.  I’ll drop him off about 7:30.  What do you hope to accomplish with the conversation?”

“In my dream world he will agree to retire in the next 6 months.  End of the year sounds good to me.  End of the week sounds even better but I don’t think that will happen.  I’m sure he will want to ease out of everything.  And I understand that.  Once he makes the decision and announces it I think things will be easier on him.”

“Makes sense.  I just hope it works out that way you want it to,” she says with a sigh.  “If you need back up, just let me know.”

We finish our tea and the rest of the cookies, chatting about the boys and their summer plans.

At 10:00 we go to check on the “boys”.  The light and television are both on and they are sound asleep curled up in the recliner.  Adorable doesn’t seem to even begin to describe how they look.  Both with wild hair because neither combed their hair after getting out of the pool.  Charlie got a little color from being in the sun today.  Ned has a new crop of freckles sprinkled across his cheeks and nose.   I grab my cell phone and snap a quick picture.  Katie picks Ned up while I grab his backpack and her purse.  We get him out to the car and strapped into his seat without him waking up.  I wave as she pulls away.  Before I head back in I grab the few cups and plates that ended up on the front porch. 

With everything cleaned up and put away I head back to the den to wake Charlie and get him up to bed.

“Sweetie,” I whisper as I smooth down his hair a little.  His eyes pop open and he looks around, I would assume for Ned.  “They left a little while ago.  Ned never even woke up when Katie carried him out.”

“What time is it?” he asks as he rubs his eyes to try and orient himself a little.

“10:30. Are you ready to go to bed?”

“I don’t know,” he mutters as he propels himself forward a little to put down the foot rest of the recliner.  He stands up and takes a minute to make sure he’s steady on his feet.  With a sigh he pads into the kitchen, carrying his now empty glass with him. 

I fold the throw he and Ned had used before following him to the kitchen.  He’s standing at the fridge with the door open.  I can’t help but laugh.

“Looking for something?” I ask as I cross the room and stand next to him, rubbing his back a little.

“Ginger ale.”

“I think there’s some left in the cooler outside.  Want me to get it?” I offer.

“I’ll get it.  I need some air,” he says as he heads for the deck.  I don’t follow him, figuring he’ll be right back in.  When he doesn’t come right back in I look out the window to see what he’s doing.  I don’t see him right away so I peek my head out the sliding glass door.  He’s sitting on the end of one of the lounge chairs. 

“You want some company?”

“Always,” he answers over his shoulder as he holds his hand out to me.

“Let me get a sweatshirt, you want one?”

“Please.”

I grab sweatshirts for both of us and the throw from the den.   I settle down on the same chair as him.  He slips the News Night sweatshirt on over his head and scoots back to lean against me.  He takes a drink and sets the can down on the little table next to the chair.  I pull him close and wrap my arms around him.  He relaxes instantly in my embrace turning on his side a little, tucking his head under my chin.  I kiss the top of his head and rub his back.

“It was a nice day,” he whispers.  “I can’t believe it, a baby.  They are going to be great parents. I just hope he gets home soon.”

“Me too.  You going to go see him on Monday?”

“Yeah, I can’t believe I missed visiting last week.”

“Well Charlie, if you remember, you were busy puking,” I tease.

“Yeah, no need to remind me.”

“So how’s your stomach been?” I ask.  I’m thinking not great at the moment, given his choice of beverage.

“Not so great at the moment but I don’t think that has to do with anxiety.  Probably has something to do with a burger, piece of chicken, cookies and God only knows what the hell I ate today.  And bourbon,” he adds, knowing I will add it if he doesn’t.

“Did you take something?”

“Yeah, before Ned and I went into the den.”

Charlie shivers a little and I pull the throw up over him.

“Better?” 

“Much,” he whispers.

Ten minutes later his breathing evens out and I know he’s fallen asleep.  I know I should wake him soon and drag him upstairs but I am way too comfortable at the moment.  It’s not like we need to be up at the crack of dawn, church starts at 11:00.

An indeterminate amount of time later Charlie startles awake.  We are both completely disoriented for a good 20 seconds. 

“What time is it?” he asks.

“No idea,” I mutter.  Neither of us has a watch or cell phone with us.  “I think it’s safe to say, time to actually go to bed,” I tease as I untangle the blanket so we can get up.  Charlie swings his feet off the chair and sits up quickly. “Not so fast,” I say as I put my hand on his shoulder to keep him where he is for a minute.

“Good idea,” he mutters.  He takes a few breaths and I slide off the chair so I can help him up a minute later.  He holds his hand out and lets me pull him to his feet.  I can tell he’s pretty stiff.  We are both too old to be sleeping together on a lounge chair.  We head inside to look at the clock. 

“3:30?  Wow,” Charlie mutters as he looks at the clock on the microwave.

“Guess we were pretty tired.  Come on, let’s go up.”  I take him by the arm and lead him upstairs before he has a chance to get a second wind.


	10. Chapter 10

I wake Sunday morning to an empty bed and the sound of Charlie whistling up the stairs.  It’s still early, a little after 8:00.  Really surprised he’s up already.

He comes in the room with a smile and coffee which I gratefully accept after I sit up a little.  Charlie climbs back onto his side of the bed with his own coffee.

“Did you sleep?” I ask.  Judging by the dark circles under his eyes, I’m thinking not too much.

“Some, I think.  I’m okay,” he answers before I can ask.

“What do you want to do today?” I ask as I curl up next to him.

“Can we just stay here?” he whispers as he pulls me close and presses a kiss to the top of my head.

“We can do whatever you want, sweetie.”

“How about we go out to get something to eat after church?” he suggests.  “Just you and me,” he adds.

“Sounds perfect.  Katie and the boys won’t be in church.  She has some work to do for tomorrow and the guys are with Michael today.”

As we sip our coffee I notice the smell of something sweet wafting up the stairs.

“You’re baking?” I ask.

“Coffee cake, don’t sound so surprised,” Charlie teases as the oven timer goes off.

We head downstairs and take our breakfast out to the front porch to enjoy the morning sun. After we finish eating I head up to take a shower while Charlie goes to the den to watch ACN Sunday Morning. 

We leave for church about 10:30.  I’m feeling generous and I toss Charlie the car keys.  He catches them with a big smile and heads for the driver’s seat.

As much as we love going to church with Katie and boys, it’s kind of nice not to worry about having to keep a 6 year old quiet and keep a teenager from bolting the second the postlude starts.

After church we head for our favorite diner in town.  It’s little crowded with the after church people but we’re fine waiting.  It’s beautiful out so we take a seat on the bench outside to wait our turn.  They are calling for rain later but there is not a sign of it right now.

By the time we’re seated I am starving.  I’m grateful when the waitress brings a basket of rolls.  Charlie picks at a roll and dumps a packet of sugar in his iced tea as he glances at the menu. 

“What are you getting?” I ask as I close the menu and reach for my roll.

“Soup and grilled cheese,” he answer as he picks up the paper from his straw crumples it up and flattens it out and crumples it up again.  Yes, my husband has the ability to sit still and refrain from fidgeting about as well as Ned.

After the waitress takes our order, I move the basket of rolls from the middle of the table and reach to still Charlie’s hands.  He drops the straw paper and mutters an apology.

“It’s fine.  Are you okay?” I ask, as he seems to be getting a little worked up.

“I don’t know.  Just trying to gear up for our conversation, I suppose,” he sighs as he scrubs a hand down his face.

“We don’t need to do this here, in public.”

“Maybe in public is better, less likely that I’m going to yell or something,” he teases.  “Not to mention, there’s no liquor here, so that’s probably a plus too.”

“Probably,” I smirk.  “We can talk here or we can wait until we’re home, it’s up to you.”

He takes a deep breath and I can tell he’s contemplating what he wants to do.

“How can I just leave my life’s work behind?” he asks simply.

“By realizing that retirement is just what happens next.  I’m not suggesting you hibernate in the house for the rest of your life.  You can still be involved in the news. You can write.  You get dozens of requests for speaking engagement a year, take some groups up on their offers.  Consult a little.  You have options, honey.”

“Obviously you’ve given this some thought,” he says, his voice giving no edge of accusation.

“Of course I have.  I have for years, not just the last 7 weeks,” I clarify.  “But I’ve never really said anything because I know just how much the news means to you.  And for a long time you were so happy being involved in the day to day business of ACN.  And now you’re not.  I don’t want to sound like I’m complaining because I’m not.  This is the life we chose…together.  And for almost 50 years we’ve managed to make it work.  I wouldn’t have changed a day of our life together, not one day.  But you’re 72 years old and I want it to just be us for a while, for the first time in forever.”

“How many times are you and Ned going to watch that movie?” he teases.  It takes me a minute to realize I just quoted Frozen. We chuckle for a second.  “I’m worried I will drive you nuts within the first week,” he admits.

“Good God Charlie, don’t you thing I’m worried about that too?” I tease.  He snorts little and give me a wink. 

The waitress brings our food and we welcome the distraction.  I dig right in to my meal, Charlie eats some soup and picks at his sandwich.  We get sidetracked from our talk by a text from Katie and a phone call from Pruitt, which Charlie ignores.

We make some small talk, I’m suddenly not sure how much of this conversation I really want to have here in the diner in the middle of the after church crowd.

“Feel okay?” I ask when it’s clear he’s just playing with his food.

“I’m fine,” he answers, using his new mantra that’s quite frankly driving me nuts.  The raised eyebrow I give him lets him know I don’t particularly believe him.  But I’m also not going to challenge him right now.  He won’t starve to death.

“Do you have any sort of timeline in mind?” he asks as he picks at a bit of cheese which has oozed out of the sandwich.

“What time is it now?” I ask with a wink of my own.

“Cute,” he smirks as he pushes his sandwich aside and eats some soup.

“Let’s try and be realistic about this, you’re not going to go in there tomorrow morning, talk to the Devil and be home on the couch by dinnertime.”  Charlie smiles at my use of his nickname for Pruitt.

“Probably not, but the idea has its merits,” Charlie admits.

“End of the year?” I suggest, holding my breath as soon as I say it.

He sits back and thinks about it before responding.

“I suppose that’s pretty realistic,” he finally answers.

“I do too.  But….”

“But what?”

“It’s realistic if things don’t get worse than they are now,” I say carefully.  I know in my head how I want to phrase this but I’m not sure how it’s going to come out.

“Meaning what?” he asks.

The waitress interrupts my answer and that’s just fine with me.  She clears away our plates and asks if we want dessert.  We decline and just ask for the check.

“You didn’t explain yourself,” Charlie reminds me as he fishes his wallet out of his pocket.

“I know.  I don’t want to do it here.”

“Okay,” he replies simply as he puts on his glasses to look at the check.  He hands over his credit card and finishes his iced tea while we wait for the waitress to come back.

I link my arm with his as we cross the parking lot.  I have every intention of letting him drive but he surprises me by handing over the keys and heading for the passenger’s side.

The ride home is quiet…very quiet.  Charlie fidgets in his seat but doesn’t say much.  He doesn’t seem angry or annoyed, just quiet and sad.

I’m not sure what to do as we walk in the front door.  It is Sunday after all and he does have work to do.  I start a pot of coffee and just kind of let him be.  He goes upstairs to change.  Ten minutes later he wanders back down in well-worn jeans and the shirt he wore to church with the shirt tails hanging out and the bowtie missing.

I hand him a cup of coffee and lean against the counter with my own mug.  He stands and looks out the sliding glass door.  The clouds have rolled in and the wind has picked up.  Guess the weather man was right today.  I push myself away from the counter and stand next to him, tentatively reaching out to rub his back a little.  He throws his arm around my shoulders and kisses my temple.

“End of the year is fine if things don’t get worse.  What did you mean by that?” he asks quietly.

“I think the end of the year is realistic if your health is stable.”

“Define stable?”

“I don’t think I can define that right now.  We need to get some tests done first.  You have to admit you’re struggling right now, physically and emotionally.”

“Yeah, I’m not going to argue about that,” he sighs as he lifts his mug to take a sip of coffee. 

“I just don’t want to see you more miserable for the next 6 months.  You’re miserable enough as it is,” I tease lightly.  I feel him shake as he lets out a little laugh.

“It’s getting harder and harder, on all of us.  Mac, Sloan, Don and myself, we’re all fighting with each other.  We’re all caught in the middle of different situations and it sucks. You’re right, I am miserable.  And I’m worried I’m dragging you down with me,” he whispers as he removes his arm from around my shoulders and wipes at his eyes a little.  I take our mugs and put them on the counter before pulling him in for a hug.  I hear him sniffle a little as I rub his back. 

“Take some deep breaths with me,” I coach.  He follows my lead and calms down rather quickly.  I back up a step, cup his cheeks and kiss him softly.  “Why don’t you go up and work for a while.”

“Okay, come up and check on me,” he says, using the phrase Ned uses every Sunday he’s here with us. 

“Always,” I assure him.

He takes his coffee and a bottle of water up with him, thankfully he doesn’t head for the den for something else to drink.

While he heads up to his office I empty the dishwasher which is still full from yesterday’s party.  I talk to Katie for a while, tell her about our conversation.  Like myself, she is “cautiously optimistic” about it.  We go over our plans for the tomorrow and she hangs up to get back to her own work.

At 4:00 I grab the last two leftover Rice Krispie treats and head up to check on Charlie.  Deeply engrossed in his work, he doesn’t see me watching him from the doorway for a good minute or so.  I love to watch him work.  

He’s at his desk, feet on the floor for a change, usually he has his feet on the desk, legal pad in his lap.  Sleeves are rolled up and a couple more buttons have been undone.  His head is propped up in his left hand and he’s alternately writing and scrolling through something on the laptop with his right.  Glasses are slipped down on his nose and he’s obviously run his fingers through his hair more than once recently as it’s sticking up a little. 

“You coming in?” he teases as he glances up at me over the top of his reading glasses.  “Or are you just going to keep checking me out from the doorway,” he smirks as he puts down his pen.

And I’ve been caught.

I cross the room and hand him the snack before greeting him with a kiss to the top of his head. “How’s it going?”

“I don’t even know.  I doubt I can tell you what I’ve just read or written,” he mutters as he leans back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk.  He takes a bite of the Rice Krispie treat as I sit on the desk next to his feet, pulling them into my lap.  He hands me his glasses and closes his eyes as I rub his feet.  I take a good look at him, I’m not real happy with what I see.  The dark circles under his eyes have grown considerably over the last week or so.  I bet he’s lost at least 5 pounds and he didn’t really have much weight to spare. Finishing his treat, he wipes his hands on his pants.  He presses the heels of his hands against his eyes and shakes his head a bit, trying to clear it a little, I assume.

“Headache?” I ask, already knowing his answer.  He just nods as he lets out a shaky breath.  “Let me get you something for it.  Are you done here?” I ask as I motion towards the laptop and pad.  He just shrugs his shoulders.  “I’ll be right back.”

I get him some Advil from the bathroom and grab my book from my nightstand so I can hang out with him while he works, or tries to work.

“Here, take these,” I tell him as I hand him the pills.  He swallows them with the rest of the water bottle. “Can I get you anything?” I ask him as I smooth down his hair and press a kiss to the top of his head. 

“I’m good,” he says as he picks up his glasses and taps the laptop to wake it up.

I curl up on the couch with my book.  It’s soon very clear to me that he’s not really getting any work done.  He’s completely fidgety and unfocused at this point.  Soon I expect him to spiral downward to sighing and quite possibly whining.

The sighing starts a minute later.  As well as vaguely frustrated groaning.  I’m trying not to laugh and smile.  I know he’s miserable but damn, he’s pretty cute too.

“Do we have any Coke left from yesterday?” he asks as the whining starts.

“I think there’s still some in the cooler,” I answer as get off the couch and cross the room.  He’s sitting with his feet on the desk and the legal pad in his lap. I take off his glasses and remove the pad, setting both aside as it is perfectly clear he’s not getting anything done.  “Why don’t you come down and sit out on the porch for a little while.  Fresh air might help your head a little.  I think the rain stopped.”

“Okay,” he replies without complaint and really without much thought.  I pull him to his feet and he stands for a minute to get his bearings.

“Dizzy?”

“A little, more stiff from sitting for two hours,” he explains.  He heads for the stairs as I grab the empty mugs and water bottle to take down.

As I hit the kitchen he comes in from the deck with a can of Coke.  “Uh, actually it hasn’t stopped raining,” he teases as he wipes his face with a paper towel.  “It’s coming straight down, I think I’ll be fine out on the front porch.”

“Okay, go relax, let the Advil and the caffeine kick in a little.” 

I putter around a little inside, giving Charlie some space.  And let’s be honest, I’m giving myself a little space too. 

Mac calls to check on us and to ask about our conversation.  Like Katie and I, she is trying not to get too optimistic about Charlie’s response.  She’s excited to see Will tomorrow.  She swears she will be able to keep her secret to herself.  I’m not so sure about that.

Beau texts me a picture of himself and Ned.  His little brother is grinning from ear to ear, absolutely covered in mud.  Michael’s house is set on a hill which serves as a great sledding hill in the winter and a great mud hill when the rains fall.  I can only imagine Ned wore his Dad down until he set him free on the hill.  I forward the picture to Charlie’s phone, along with the picture I took of him and Ned last night when they were passed out in the recliner.

My text message alert chimes again.  It’s from Charlie. 

_\--we sure have some cute grandsons_

I didn’t think he had his cell phone on him.

_\--and I have a cute husband.  head any better?_

_\--a little, what are you doing?_

_\--just talked to Mac and Katie and before you ask, yes about you_

_\--great_

_\--live with it sweetie_

_\--why are we texting each other?_

I can hear his laughter coming through the screen door.

_\--trying to give you space_

_\--I’ve had enough space_

_\-- be out in a minute_

Charlie’s on the swing, cellphone in his hand.  He tries to swipe the screen so I can’t see he’s playing Candy Crush but he’s too slow.  I just laugh at him.  I scoot him over so I can sit at the end.  I take his phone and set it on the table out of reach.  The rain has actually stopped now and the sun is trying to peek out.  I take a deep breath and inhale the fresh smell of late spring.

He stretches out and settles himself down with his head in my lap, feet propped on the arm of the swing.  I wipe away the bit of marshmallow from his cheek and mess with his hair a little as he relaxes. Eyes closed and quiet for a few minutes I really think he’s about to just fall asleep.  Which is perfectly fine with me.

“I’m scared,” he whispers, eyes still closed.

And my heart breaks.

“Sweetie, look at me,” I whisper as I slip my hand in his shirt and rest it over his heart.  He opens his eyes and tries to smile.  “Scared about what?”

“Everything,” he states simply, offering no explanation.

“Top three things.”

He thinks for a minute before answering.  “Letting people down, being bored, and Dr. Matthews’ prediction.”

“One of those things scares me too.  But I’ll keep you from being bored,” I tease.  He chuckles a little as a few little tears escape his eyes.  I wipe them away.  “Seriously, I’m scared too.  But you need to get the tests done and we’ll go from there.  Together, just as we’ve done for 50 years.”

He just nods a little and gives a small, watery smile.  “So just how long does it take the anxiety meds to work, because I’m tired of being a mess,” he mutters.

“I know.  It’ll get better,” I reassure him as I lean over to kiss him gently.  He relaxes a little and I start the swing with my foot.  After about 10 minutes of gentle swinging he does nod off.  I should have thought ahead and brought out my book or at the very least my phone but I didn’t.  Even his phone is about 6 inches out of my reach.  So I’m left watching my husband sleep. 

Not the worst way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

********

“Charlie you need to settle down,” I warn as he takes another lap around the downstairs.  It’s 8:30 and unfortunately he’s gotten a second wind.  He ended up sleeping outside for almost an hour before waking up feeling a little better.  We took a walk and ate some of the leftovers from yesterday for dinner.  He skimmed the leaves from the pool, emptied the coolers and smoked his weekly cigar before coming back in the house to drive me nuts.  “Honey, carry that upstairs,” I say as I motion towards the laundry basket sitting on the landing.  “Put your pajamas on while you’re up there.”

“It’s 8:30,” he whines.  Yes, the whining has continued.

“Are you planning on going somewhere?” I ask, perhaps doing a little whining of my own. 

“Fine,” he mutters as he heads up the stairs.

He comes back 10 minutes later wearing his favorite pajamas.  He heads for the den and I don’t bother to say anything.  I hear him pour himself a drink and start pacing again.  The extra caffeine helped his head but it left him wired.  And I don’t have it in me to do anything other than pour myself a glass of wine and join him.

“Are you going try to talk to Pruitt this week?” I ask.  We’re sitting at the island with our drinks and the last of the fruit salad.

“This week?  Hell, I’d like to talk to that little fucking brat tomorrow,” he snorts.

“Language,” I mutter reflexively.

“So it’s decided,” he says as he drains his glass.  He reaches for the bottle he conveniently brought into the kitchen after he refilled his glass the first time. I get up to grab the bottle of wine from the fridge. 

When I sit back down he lifts his glass in a toast. 

“To a new chapter,” he says simply as he clinks his glass against mine.

We finish our drinks and head upstairs about 9:30.  I don’t have any great hope that he will just settle down and sleep but hey, a girl can dream.

Twenty minutes later and Charlie’s not settling down, but that’s okay he has other ideas which I approve of, no complaints or whining from me.


	11. Chapter 11

Katie drops Ned off at 7:15.  Charlie is still asleep and it’s all I can do to keep my little guy from bolting up the stairs and waking his grandfather, probably by jumping directly on him.

By 8:00 I give up and send Ned up to wake his grandfather, after he promises to do it nicely.  I know Charlie wants to spend some time with him before Chris comes to pick him up at 11:00.

Ten minutes later the two of them pad back down the stairs. Charlie, who is still in his pajamas, doesn’t exactly look wide awake.

“Did he at least wake you nicely?” I ask as I glance at my youngest grandson who is looking more than slightly guilty.

“So of,” Charlie smiles as he ruffles Ned’s hair.

“What can I get you boys for breakfast?”  I have a pretty good idea what the answer will be.

“Waffles,” they answer together. 

And I was right.

Charlie pours some coffee for himself and makes Ned some chocolate milk while I get out the waffle iron.  They turn to television to ACN and sit at the island while I whip up the batter.  The boys share a banana and Ned reads some of his book to Charlie.  He’s rather advanced, having learned how to read before he started Kindergarten last September.  School ended Friday and Ned is thrilled to be spending his first day of summer vacation with us. 

By the time the waffles are ready the book has been pushed aside and Ned is chattering a mile a minute about the plans he’s apparently made for the summer.  Sounds as if Charlie needs to retire immediately if he’s going to have time to do all these things with Ned.

I can’t help but smile at the two of them sitting side by side.  Both have a stray lock of hair sticking up, Charlie’s from sleep and Ned’s quite possibly from maple syrup.  They each have one eye on their plates, the other on the television.  Ned does have a little fat lip from his mishap on Saturday, but he wears it as a badge of honor, having gotten the chance to play with the “big boys”.

When breakfast is done I send Charlie up to shower and I get Ned to help me clear away the dishes.  He reads a little to me before I hear Charlie’s voice floating down the stairs.

“Hey Ned, come help me pick out a bowtie,” he calls.

Ned gets a big grin on his face, slides off the stool and runs up the stairs.  I imagine there are not too many 6 year olds who would go running to pick out a bow tie.  What can I say, Ned and Charlie have a special bond. 

By 9:45 the two of them come back down.  Charlie’s in a blue shirt, tan pants and a striped bowtie.  Ned’s hair has been combed and his face washed.  He’s carrying Charlie’s tan suit jacket which he sets, more or less neatly, over a kitchen chair.

“Poppy showed me how to tie a bowtie,” he says excitedly.  I’ve actually been looking for a real bowtie for him, but the only ones I can find in his size are pre-tied ones.  Maybe I can make him one out of the scraps from his quilt.

“How did you do?”

“Not too good, but I’ll practice,” he assures me.  “Poppy do you have time to do Legos?” he asks hopefully.

“I do, go grab them and take them into the den.  I’ll be there in a minute,” Charlie answers as he sits in a kitchen chair to tie his shoes.  He pours himself another cup of coffee and heads for the den.

The two of them are deeply involved in the creation of some sort of spaceship when Chris knocks on the door.  I invite him in and get him a cup of coffee as I don’t think Ned is ready to let Charlie go.  Chris goes into the den and admires the work for a minute or two.  I offer him one of the leftover waffles which he accepts happily.  He comes back in the kitchen to eat, leaving Charlie and Ned to have a few more minutes together before they need to leave.

At 11:30, half an hour after Charlie usually leaves, I kiss my husband good bye.  “Love you,” he whispers in my ear.

“Love you too, see you later,” I whisper back.

Charlie and Ned walk out to the car.  I watch from the porch, giving them a few minutes alone.  Ned’s carrying Charlie’s briefcase and he puts it on the back seat for him. He shakes Chris’ hand before Chris slides into the driver’s seat.  Charlie leans down and kisses Ned goodbye.  I hear him promise to wake Ned when he gets home tonight.  I’m guessing it’s not going to be a late night tonight.  That’s fine with me.

“Love you, Poppy,” Ned calls as Charlie climbs into the car.

“Love you too, Buddy,” Charlie answers before closing the door.  Ned waves as Chris drives off.  We head out back to water the plants and make some plans for the rest of the day.

We work on sprucing up the planters on the front porch railing.  Ned helps plant some Gerber daisies and he pulls some weeds out of the flower beds along the front walk. 

When our gardening is done I set him up with a DVD while I shower so we can go out for a late lunch. 

Luckily Ned has a more sophisticated palate than most 6 year olds so I am spared lunch at Chuck E Cheese or McDonalds.  He picks a little BBQ place near the house, it’s been a family favorite for years.  We’ve gotten to know the owners and they make a big fuss over Ned.  He’s in his glory with a kid sized portion of ribs and baked beans.

Charlie calls while we’re eating.  Sounds like he’s having a crappy day so far, and he’s only been there for 2 hours.  I let him grumble for a while, making appropriate comments as I eat my pull pork sandwich.

“Nancy are you really listening?” he asks. 

“Sorry, Ned just asked me something,” I mutter as Ned shoots me a look.  “Is the devil around today?”

“He’s around every day, unfortunately.  Going to try and see if I can talk to him later.  If not I’ll actually make an appointment for tomorrow. I have half a mind to just tell him I’m done now,” he sighs.

Okay, that’s surprising and I have to admit, a little alarming.  But who am I to argue. 

“Honey it’s up to you.  I will stand by you no matter what.  I love you.”

“I know, love you too.  I’ll talk to you later.”

He hangs up with a promise to eat something soon.

When we’re done eating I ask Ned what he wants to do this afternoon he states, without hesitation, “bake chocolate chip cookies.”

That I can do.

We stop at the store to pick up some supplies.  As I’m pulling out of the parking lot heading for home my cell rings.  It’s Mac and she’s beside herself excited.

Will is coming home!

We chat for a few minutes and I assure her I will let her tell Charlie.  But she has to tell him soon.  I can’t keep this news to myself.

By the time we get home, my cell is ringing again, it’s Charlie.  I hand Ned the bag of groceries and he takes them in the house while I stay on the porch and talk to Charlie.

The excitement in his voice is music to my ears.  He hasn’t had much to look forward to lately.  We start to make plans for a party next weekend.

Ned comes back outside looking for me.  Obviously he is eager to get started on the baking.   As we walk into the house I hand him the phone so he can say “hi” to his grandfather.  He chats for a minute, pacing around, just like Charlie does when he’s on the phone.

“Don’t forget to wake me up, Poppy,” he says before hanging up.

“Go wash your hands,” I tell him as I get out the eggs and butter.

An hour later, Ned is running around, sugared up on cookie dough and actual baked cookies.

I send him and his energy outside to run around for a little while.  He finds the soccer ball in the garage and he runs around for a good hour while I watch him from the deck.  He eventually wanders up to the deck where I’m reading and asks me the question I’ve been waiting for all day. 

“Can I go swimming?”

“Sure, your backpack is in the guest room upstairs.  Kick your shoes off out here, they are a little muddy.  Grab a towel from the laundry room.”

“Are you going in too?” he asks.

“For a little while,” I agree.  It has been quite warm for the past week and the heater has been running so I suppose I can go in for a bit.  I can always hit the hot tub when I get chilly.

We swim for well over an hour.  Eventually I climb out and get in the hot tub while Ned continues to practice his nearly acquiring diving skills.  He joins me to warm up in the hot tub chatting on about his plans for the summer vacation.  Apparently Charlie and I will be very busy with him over the summer.

“What’s for dinner? Ned asks as he pulls his hands out of the water to inspect his completely wrinkled finger tips.

“We have leftover chicken from the BBQ on Saturday.  Do you want some of that?”

“Sure.  Can we eat outside?”

“Of course.  How about we get changed, work on your quilt and then get dinner?  I’m still full from lunch, what about you?”

“I think I’m full from cookies,” he admits with a grin.

“I’m sure you are.  What do you think about inviting Beau for dinner?  I think he gets off work soon.”

“We can invite him.  But he won’t stay over will he?” Ned asks, apparently concerned over having to share Charlie tonight.

“I don’t think he’s interested in staying overnight,” I assure him.

We head inside and Ned goes upstairs to put his clothes back on.  I text Beau and he answers right away that he would love to come over and eat.  He’s practicing with his band at 8:00 so I tell him we’ll eat about 6:30.

Dinner with my boys is just lovely.  Beau is in a chatty mood, so is Ned, but then again, he’s always chatty.  Beau talks about the gigs his band has lined up for the next few weeks.  The band is really getting quite good and they have some dates at a few area coffee shops coming up.  I promise to come hear them.

After dinner the boys go out to the driveway to shoots baskets while I clean up.  Beau heads out at 7:45.  I still can’t get my mind wrapped around the fact that he’s driving already. 

Ned begs for a few more minutes outside.  I sit on the porch and watch him try to hit the backboard.  Katie calls to say that she got home and her meeting was a success.  She thanks me again for keeping Ned overnight.  I assure her it is no problem, we had a great day and Ned and Charlie are looking forward to some late night bonding which I am sure will include fresh baked chocolate cookies.


	12. Chapter 12

It’s nearly 8:00 before I can get Ned in the house and into the bath.  I wish I had half the energy this kid has.

He’s currently in the sunken tub in our bathroom with surrounded by bubbles, singing in the same off key manner as Charlie sings.  I set up the ironing board so I can see both him and the television in our bedroom.  Sloan just started her broadcast.  As they go to the first break she lists the upcoming stories for News Night.  The last topic catches my ear, something about the new app that is giving Charlie, (and everyone who isn’t a minion of Pruitt’s) fits.  Should be interesting.  I iron a few of Charlie’s plaid shirts as Ned enjoys his bath.

“Alright buddy, time to get out of the tub before you just shrivel up,” I announce at 8:30.

“Nana, that’s not possible,” Ned explains in complete 6 year old seriousness.  I try not to laugh as I help him rinse the bubbles out of his hair.  He puts on his pajamas, brushes his teeth and I tell him he can get in my bed for a while to watch “Poppy’s channel”.  Honestly, I think he likes to watch Sloan.

He kneels by the side of the bed and quickly says his prayers before climbing up and snuggling under the covers on Charlie’s side of the bed. I sit on my side of the bed and watch the last few segments of the broadcast.

Oh My God.

While I’m sure Pruitt and therefore Charlie are going to go ballistic about the interview, I know my husband and deep down he’s proud of what Sloan just did.  Unfortunately, when he sees her in a few minutes, it is not going to come across that way.

The house phone rings a minute later, as I knew it would.

“Nancy, I swear to fucking God I am done!  Did you see that shit?” Charlie yells, without so much as a greeting.

“Yes Charlie, I saw it. Please calm down, you know what Dr. Matthews said,” I plead, ignoring his language.

“I don’t care what he said.  I care about the shit storm those two girls just cooked up.”

“I know you do,” I whisper.

He rambles on for another minute or so and I just let him.  He needs to get things out and that’s fine.  But when it sounds like he’s about to hyperventilate I have to say something.

“Charlie, take a deep breath and listen to me,” I plead as I am truly starting to worry about his emotional state.  I look for my cell phone to text Mac.  I can hear him take a few ragged breaths.  As I do I see Ned looking up at me with a confused and slightly scared look on his face.  I pull him into my lap and kiss his cheek.  I hand him the remote and he turns on Disney Channel.  “Better?” I ask when I can no longer hear Charlie’s harsh breathing.

“Yes.  Nancy, I am going down to the bullpen, handling this mess and after that I am going to tell Pruitt I’m retiring. I can’t do this anymore,” he says quietly.  The resignation in his tone is clear.

“Charlie, are you sure?” I ask as I wipe away the tears which have started to fall.  I know we discussed it yesterday but having it basically be a done deal is a little scary.

“Yes.  I’m done.  I will call you when it’s over.”  I hear him take a few deep breaths and I can almost see him running a hand through his hair and tugging at his bowtie.

“Before you go down there, please remember that Mac and Sloan love you very much.”

“I know, that’s what makes this whole thing a train wreck.”

“I’m so sorry I’m not there with you, honey,” I say as I shift Ned a little and rub his back, he’s almost asleep.

“I love you, Nancy,” Charlie whispers, his voice thick with emotion. I can tell he’s on the verge of tears.  It’s nothing short of heartbreaking.

“I love you too,” I whisper.

I hang up with an unexplainable feeling of dread.

Less than 10 minutes later my cell phone rings, Charlie’s cell.  Strange, as he called the house line a few minutes ago.

“Honey?  That was quick,” I start as I turn out the light, Ned is asleep.

“Nancy, it’s Mac.  Sorry, Charlie’s was the first phone I could get my hands on and your cell number was the first saved number and…and…Nancy…he…Charlie..”

“Mac, what’s wrong, what happened?  Is Charlie okay?”

“Nancy, Charlie collapsed in the bullpen.  He came down to deal with Sloan and I after the…the.”

“I saw the interview.  What happened?”

“We all got loud and he tried to be the voice of reason.  Eventually he turned to go with Pruitt. He stopped by a desk, took a breath and collapsed.  He hit his head on the desk, gashed his forehead.  Paramedics are on their way.”

“Oh my God,” I manage to croak out at the tears come flooding back.  My sobs wake Ned and I pull him back into my lap.  “Is he conscious?”

“He is but he’s not really responding.  Don is with him.  Sloan is on the phone with Katie.  A driver will be there in 15 minutes to pick both of you up.”

“Mac, be honest, it is bad?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“I think so,” she answers. 

“Okay,” is all I can manage to say. 

Dr. Matthews’ prediction is coming true sooner than any of us could have ever imagined.

“I’ll go with him in the ambulance,” Mac offers.

“Wait, what about Will?” I ask suddenly remembering he is getting out tonight.

“Let me worry about that.  I will let you know what’s happening.”

“Thank you.  Give him a kiss for me,” I sob into the phone.

I hang up and look into Ned’s frightened eyes.

“Is Poppy okay?” he asks, obviously he was paying attention to my conversation.

“No,” I explain as I wipe my eyes.  “He got sick at work.  Mommy and I are going to check on him.

“What about me?” Ned asks.  For a second I don’t have an answer for him.  It’s not like I’m going to leave him here by himself.  I hear the front door open and I yell down that Ned and I are in the bedroom.  Two sets of footsteps come flying up the stairs, Katie’s and Beau’s.  The four of us huddle and cry together for a minute.  Katie wants Beau to take Ned home but our little guy is very reluctant to leave my house and I understand.  I send Katie downstairs to wait for the car and I take Ned into Charlie’s office.  I settle him down on the couch, probably his favorite spot in the house, except for the pool.  I reassure him as best I can.  He calms down, I put on the television and cover him up with the ACN sweatshirt Charlie keeps on the back of his door.  He snuggles up under it immediately.  I kiss his forehead and leave the room before I start crying again.

We assure Beau we will call as soon as we know something.

Five minutes later our car arrives as we speed through the night into the city.

Mac keeps in contact via text. 

\-- _doc thinking heart attack but not ruling out stroke_

_\--head wound doesn’t seem to be a concern_

_\--don and sloan here_

_\--having trouble stabilizing him_

And finally…

_\--hurry_

That last text comes when we’re still at least 10 minutes away.

The car stops in front of the ER entrance and Katie and I jump from the car.  We head inside and I scan the waiting room for familiar faces.

I see the 3 of them huddled together in a corner.

One glance at them and I know the truth, my sweet Charlie is gone.

Mac gets to me first, followed quickly by Don and Sloan.  The five of us cry for a minute until the doctor comes out.  He talks us to but I don’t hear much more than massive heart attack, irreversible damage, dead.

They tell us we can see him for a minute.  He’s still in the room where they worked on him.  It’s not busy so they haven’t moved his body yet.  Mac walks us down the hall.  Don and Sloan ask if they should start making calls.  I ask them to hold off until Katie can call Beau.

Katie only stays for a minute, there’s obviously nothing she can do.  As a mother she needs to focus on her boys.  She kisses her father’s cheek and leaves the room in tears to call Beau.

“Do you want me to stay?” Mac asks.

“No, I want you to go get your husband,” I tell her.  “You need to be the one to tell him.”

“Okay,” she whispers.  I step back a little as she walks to the gurney.  She takes Charlie’s hand and kisses it, whispering how much she loves him.  She gives me a quick hug and leaves to go get Will.

I pull up a stool and take Charlie’s hand.  It’s still warm.  I remove the oxygen sensor from his finger.  Both arms still have the IV ports.  The gash on his forehead has been closed with three little pieces of surgical tape and his hair is sticking up.  I can’t help but smooth it down.  The sheet’s pulled down past his shoulders and the pads from the monitor wires are still stuck to his chest.  I pull the sheet up a little.

I feel like I should say something but my mind is going in a million directions, I wouldn’t know where to start.  I press his hand to my lips and tell him I love him.  I remove his wedding ring and put it on my thumb.  I kiss him one more time and turn to leave.  Don is standing in the doorway, tears streaming down his face.  I motion for him to come in, he takes a hesitant step in, unsure if he should.

“I’ll be right outside,” I whisper as I grab the bag of Charlie’s belongings which are on the counter by the door.

I watch as Don holds Charlie’s hand and leans over to kiss his forehead.  He’s comes into the hallway not a minute after me.

Thirty minutes later Katie and I are headed back home.  Don and Sloan offered to come with us but we declined.  We took them up on their offer to make some calls.  The first call, which I should probably make myself but honestly can’t, is Leona Lansing.  Katie’s already told Beau over the phone.  She didn’t want to but he knew as soon as she called.  Ned was still sleeping and Beau had decided not to wake him. 

When we get home, Katie makes tea for the three of us and we huddle in the den in our grief.  I share with Beau what I know about the final hour or so of his grandfather’s life.  Despite trying to hold everything in, he dissolves into tears in his mother’s arms.  While Katie comforts Beau I go to get us more tissues.  As I hit the hallway I see Ned sitting at the top of the stairs.  He’s wrapped up in Charlie’s sweatshirt, tears clearly streaming down his little cheeks.  I motion for him to come down and he shakes his head. He stands and nearly trips over the sweatshirt as he runs back into Charlie’s office.

“Katie, Ned’s awake, let me go talk to him,” I say as I peek my head back in the den.  She nods her head as she continues to hug Beau and gently rub his back.

By the time I get to Charlie’s office, Ned is curled up in the desk chair.  The hood of the sweatshirt is pulled over his head and I can hear his little sobs.  I scoop him up into my arms and we both settle into the chair.

“Is Poppy dead?” he asks as he pushes the hood back a bit so I can see his face.

“Yes, honey, he is,” I state simply.  It’s Ned’s first experience with death, outside of a few goldfish, so I’m not sure how much he will understand.

“That means he’s not coming back, right?” he asks quietly.

“That’s right.”

Ned’s quiet for a few minutes.  He pushes his little hands out of the sleeves and reaches for my hands. He fingers the ring on my thumb.

“Is that Poppy’s?” he asks.  I nod and hold him tight.  He takes a deep breath and starts to sob, which starts me all over again. 

Katie finds us still in the chair a little while later, both of us a blubbering mess.  She takes Ned from me and starts to carry him out of the room.  He protests and it’s understandable.  Charlie’s office was their special place.  Katie settles him on the couch.  I go back down to check on Beau. 

I find Beau in Charlie’s recliner under the plaid throw.  He’s asleep.  I kiss his forehead and take the mugs from our tea back to the kitchen.

It’s 3 in the morning and I honestly don’t know what to do.  I wander the kitchen for a few minutes, putting the mugs in the dishwasher and setting the coffee maker for tomorrow morning, Katie and I are sure to need it.  My cell’s text alert goes off and I pick it up off the counter.  It’s from Will.

_\--Are you awake?  Can I call?_

I call and talk to Will for a while as I wander around.  I see the bag from the hospital on the bench in the foyer, where Charlie always dumps/dumped his briefcase at the end of the day.  I put it on the kitchen table and start to empty it as Will and I wrap up our call with the usual “love you” and “talk to you soon”.

I dump the contents of the bag and stare at the pile of assorted items before really touching any of them.  I almost have to force myself to pick them up.

I find his wallet, cell phone and some change in his pants pockets.  His shirt and jacket are missing.  I realize they were probably cut off.  I find his reading glasses.  I hold them up, they are, as usual smudged to the point that I have no idea how he saw anything out of them.  His socks are stuffed in one shoe and his watch in the other.  The one thing I’m looking for isn’t in the pile.  I pick up his pants and go through the pockets again until I find what I’m looking for….his bowtie.

And that’s my undoing…again.

I hear footsteps on the stairs so I quickly wipe a hand over my eyes.  Katie heads down the hall to peek in on Beau before coming back in the kitchen.

“Boys okay?”

“Yeah, both are asleep. Ned’s still on Dad’s couch.  Beau’s where I left him in the recliner.  How are you?”

“Numb.  I talked to Will. He and Mac will come out later.”

Katie sits down next to me and picks up Charlie’s bowtie, running the silk through her fingers.  “I keep thinking this is all just a bad dream,” she whispers as she swipes at her eyes.

“Me too.  I think I’m going to go upstairs, try to sleep for a little while.”

“Want me to come up with you?” Katie offers.

“That’s okay.  I never remade the bed in the guest room from when Mac stayed over.  Sheets are in the dryer, I think.  I’ll help you make the bed.”

“Mom, I can do that myself.  Go get some sleep.”  I nod in agreement and give her a big hug.

Before I go into our bedroom I peek my head in to check on Ned.  He is curled up on the couch under the plaid blanket.  He’s still wearing Charlie’s sweatshirt, I doubt I’ll ever get that back from him.  That’s just fine.  I tiptoe in and kiss his forehead.

As I step into our bedroom, the room we’ve shared for over 30 years, random memories of Charlie come flooding back.  I have to force myself to change and not just crawl in to bed fully dressed.  I head to the bathroom and slip out of my clothes.  Closing the door a little to pull my pajamas off the hook on the back I stop short.  I see our pajamas, mine and Charlie’s, side by side, just where we left them this morning.  I leave mine hanging and pull on his pajamas.  They have the faint smell of Irish Spring soap, coffee and bourbon. 

I crawl into bed, wrapping myself around Charlie’s pillow.

The next few days will be spent with family and friends, but right now I feel completely alone….for the first time in forever.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want thank everyone who made it to the end with me. 
> 
> This originally started out as a two or three part story, starting with Friday night, 3 days before Charlie died. But as I worked through the first few days I realized I was having way too much fun writing it so I backed things up and did another week. I fell in love with my version of little Ned and he was so much fun to write. Wish we could have seen him and Charlie on screen.
> 
> I also wish we had seen some of Charlie and Nancy's relationship on the show. I loved that Aaron cast Joanna Gleason as Nancy. She was a perfect choice.
> 
> I'm planning on this being the beginning of a series which will focus on how Charlie's family members, real and surrogate, deal with his death and eventually learn to move on. 
> 
> I actually started the next story before I even thought about writing this one. It focuses mainly on Will and Mac as they prepare for the baby as well as the relationship between Will and Charlie's grandsons, Beau and Ned.
> 
> Thanks again for reading.


End file.
